


"You see, but you do not observe" - Johnlock

by JustHereToShipThings



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha John Watson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Gay, Gay Sex, Implied Mpreg, Jealous John, Jealous John Watson, Jealous Sherlock, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Modern Era, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Sherlock, Omega Sherlock Holmes, Omega Verse, Pregnancy, Sex, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26442949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustHereToShipThings/pseuds/JustHereToShipThings
Summary: Alpha John Watson is all set to marry Mary Morstan when he has a one-night-stand with the genius Omega Sherlock Holmes. A month later John is married and Sherlock realises he's pregnant with John's child. Not wanting to destroy his best friends marriage, Sherlock struggles with what he should do. Meanwhile, John is having problems of his own...A Sherlock & John slow burn romance. COMPLETED fic!
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 97
Kudos: 185





	1. 1

Chapter 1:  
It _had_ to be Sherlock, didn’t it? Of all the people on the planet, it had to be Sherlock Holmes.  
Really, it started with Moriarty’s death. John was well prepared for the aftermath, Sherlock had shared his plans with him from day one. They had even been rehearsing! So when John saw ‘Sherlock’ (the very realistic doll) lying on the pavement, he had the appropriate reaction. Then, an hour later, he was hugging Sherlock, back at his side as usual. Sherlock hid at Mycroft’s for the duration of his fake death. Mycroft had bulletproof metal shutters on every door and window. Once inside, the place was like a fortress, surrounded by high walls and guarded by cameras. It was in that house that Sherlock could lead a reasonably normal life - expect for the fact that he couldn’t leave, unless disguised, of course.

John still saw him as often as he could, when he wasn’t busy going to therapy lying about how his best friend was dead, falsely limping around London on his cane, and overall playing the grieving friend. The trouble was that Sherlock was frightfully busy taking down Moriarty's network from beyond the grave and was sneaking about in various disguises a lot, so John, well…  
He grew a bit lonely, really.  
It was during this time that he met Mary Morstan. He still had to play his role, of course.  
“My best friend, Sherlock Holmes” he told her, “is dead.”  
“Oh I’m so sorry” Mary said gently. “You must feel so…alone.”  
And he had. That was the trouble. Although John knew Sherlock to be alive and well - they still text all the time after all, and they saw each other in person as often as Sherlock’s work would allow - John was still lonely, and a bit bored, if he was honest. With Sherlock handling Moriarty’s network, there was no adventuring through London to be had. What can he say? Mary grew to be good company and good fun.  
When she asked him on a date, John thought it would be a bit of enjoyable distraction, he didn’t plan for it to take such serious steps. Like falling in love..

Okay, not as in love as John was with Sherlock, but…Sherlock was unobtainable, John Watson knew that much. So, he’d settle for what he could get. He may not be as in love with Mary as he was with Sherlock, but it was better then spending the rest of his life pining after somebody he’d never have. Someone he had no chance with.  
It had been months since John had seen Sherlock in person, although they still text daily, Sherlock texting under a false name, but John knew the truth. Anyway, it had been some months, and everything was going so well that John decided to propose to Mary.  
The proposal went beautifully, and John updated Sherlock visa text. Then, he and Mary were making wedding plans a week later over a meal in a fancy restaurant when -  
A waiter leaned down beside John.  
“Mission complete!” he grinned happily.  
John stared up to realise it was Sherlock, with a fake pair of glasses and a silly drawn on moustache. SERIOUSLY?! RIGHT NOW?!  
“Who are you?” Mary frowned at Sherlock. 

Great! Sherlock could of given John some warning before he had to slip on his acting shoes.  
“Sherlock Holmes” grinned the genius. “Not dead.”  
“SHERLOCK!” John exploded - as they rehearsed - with a mix of horror, anger and relief - by springing out of his chair, grabbing Sherlock by the arm, yelling, “YOU’VE GOT SOME SERIOUS EXPLAINING TO DO!” - and dragging him outside.  
Outside, the two were giggling as they ducked into an alleyway.  
“Seriously? Not dead? That’s what you went with?” John can’t help chuckling.  
“I thought it would be the most fun!” Sherlock beams. “Congrats on the engagement by the way, sorry I didn’t answer your text.”  
“It’s okay, I knew you were probably busy typing up the last few ends” John says, before shoving Sherlock playfully, “could of warned me you were ready to come out of hiding though! I wasn’t ready for my big scene!”  
“I think you did wonderfully” Sherlock smiles proudly. “The real surprise added a nice layer to your character.”  
John scoffs and rolls his eyes, all too familiar with Sherlock’s antics by now! “I’m glad you’re not dead any more, even if you are annoying” John grins.  
“So am I, being dead was boring” Sherlock agrees with a nod. A pause, “so, a fellow Alpha? That’s breaking the mould.” 

“I know” John chuckles fondly, “Mary’s very feminine for an Alpha though. Is that…I dunno, female Alpha-ist to say?”  
“I THINK so” Sherlock says, before grinning, “bit not good, John.”  
John can’t help a laugh!  
“Who knows? Perhaps now I’m not dead, I can find myself a nice Alpha too, I can’t remember the last time I went on a date. After all, male Omega’s like myself are very rare you know, I could have a line of men just slobbering after me!”  
John’s instincts let slip a slight possessive growl before he manages to suppress it, but its okay, because Sherlock just laughs it off.  
“I know, big strong Alpha boy feels the in-built, millions of years of evolution prone need to protect me cause he’s been living with me so long” Sherlock laughs. “That’s just what happens if an Alpha exposes themselves to an unclaimed Omega for too long, so I hear.”  
John, in his medical experience, knows this to be a myth. He’s a possessive Alpha because he’s in love with the Omega before him. The lovely, the beautiful, the brilliant Sherlock Holmes. As if being gorgeous wasn’t enough, he’s also amazing fun, the best mind in England, and one endless walking-talking adventure. Even if John’s billion year old Alpha instincts weren’t naturally attracted to Sherlock’s sweet smelling Omega hormones - he’d STILL want Sherlock. Just for being who he was.  
Of that’s he’s certain.  
But of course, he can’t tell Sherlock that. He can’t face the inevitable rejection. So he lets the brilliant detective with a slim understanding of mating rituals believe such outdated myths. It saves John’s bacon, and that’s what matters! 

“Right” Sherlock breaks out a bottle of fake blood from his coat. “Time for a false injury. Again.”  
John chuckled and gives Sherlock a light punch on his lovely cheekbone. This wins a slight real mark that aids Sherlock, with the use of fake blood, in making himself look like he’s been punched in the nose. John then storms back into the restaurant like he’s really angry. 

A few minutes later, Mary herself comes out onto the street to find Sherlock dripping ‘blood’ and looking defeated.  
“You’re really Sherlock, hu?” Mary asks, gliding up to him like a swan.  
“Yeah” Sherlock says. He’s a brilliant actor, he’s managing to look like a man who’s just been beaten up by his best friend.  
“What happened to being dead?” Mary asks, warmly. She has a sweet voice.  
“It was a necessary lie” Sherlock nods. “I did it to protect him. It was either I was dead, or he would be.”  
Mary nods, “okay” she says, before smiling at him, “I’ll talk him around.”  
“Yeah?” Sherlock smiles.  
“Yeah” Mary looks like a literal doe deer. Her eyes big, her cheeks like apples, her frame slight. She doesn’t look like an Alpha at all, even though Sherlock’s sense of smell does identify as her as such. She looks like a sweet, submissive, stereotypical Omega. No wonder John is attracted to her, he’s got a need to ‘protect’. And Sherlock has never seen anyone who looks more physically vulnerable and naive then Mary.

Sherlock likes her immediately. 

Sherlock, being Sherlock, notices a problem immediately. It arrives about a month before the wedding, which Sherlock is helping plan, when he notices a sudden and immediate change in John.  
Firstly, his nightmares return. He hasn’t had a single one since he met the detective, but with four weeks to go before the wedding, they come back with a vengeance.  
That first night, John wakes up screaming, and Sherlock, having never witnessed his night terrors before, rushed upstairs under the impression John was under attack.

“John?!” He burst worriedly into the room.  
John was shaking so violently the bed beneath him shook with him, “Sherlock!” John desperately reached out for him, like a child to their parent.  
Sherlock wasted no time in jumping on the bed and allowing his small frame to be consumed in John’s strong arms. The army veteran was spewing sweat and nearing hyperventilation. He clung to Sherlock like the genius was the last bit of floating wood in an endlessly rough sea.  
“Easy, easy” Sherlock wrapped his arms tightly around John, rocking him to and fro. “Try to breathe John, it’s alright. It’s okay.”  
John bowed his head and nuzzled his forehead into the crook of Sherlock’s neck, his breathing heavy but already slowing slightly.  
“That’s it, breathe” Sherlock soothed, rubbing his back softly. “Then, once we’ve got you nicely calmed down, how about a cool shower and a nice cup of tea? Earl grey, eh? It’ll help you get right back to sleep.”  
“Will you stay with me?” John mumbles into Sherlock’s shoulder.  
Sherlock blinks. It’s not like John to express any vulnerability, especially not verbally. His night terror must have really shaken him. “Sure” Sherlock promises. “I’ll stay with you.”

Once Sherlock was lay in bed - John under the covers and him on top of them - John slept peacefully.  
However, the very next night, John was up and screaming again. This time though, he called out to Sherlock.  
The ritual of soothing, shower and a cup of tea was repeated, then, “will you stay again Sherlock? Please?”

On the third night, John didn’t even have to ask, Sherlock just let him know immediately that yes, he’ll stay.  
From that night, Sherlock didn’t bother going to his own bed at all. On the forth evening, he and John got ready for bed and headed upstairs together. John climbed under the duvet and Sherlock atop it and peacefully to sleep they went.  
John didn’t have so much as even a mildly scary dream.

And that’s how Sherlock Holmes ended up sort-of sharing a bed with John Watson - because when John could fall asleep looking at Sherlock, he would sleep in peace, having nothing but pleasant dreams. After two weeks, when Sherlock figured that the night terrors must have stopped, he tried returning to his own bed - only for the night terrors to return that same night.  
So, he sleeps beside John now.  
Deal with it. 

Once the sleep issue is dealt with, however, a new one appears. Two weeks to go before the wedding and Sherlock notices John has brought home beer bottles beside the milk.  
“Who’s this for?” Sherlock asks a question he already knows the answer to.  
“For me, obviously” John says with a mocking tone.  
“You don’t drink.”  
“Didn’t” John corrects, snatching a bottle and flopping into his arm chair with it.

Sherlock huffs in annoyance. Alright. This has gone too far now.  
“Ok, I give up, what’s wrong?” Sherlock demands, sitting down opposite him. “You’re having nightmares, you’re drinking for the first time! Something’s got your pants in a right knot.”  
“I’m fine!” John snaps. “Leave me alone!”  
Sherlock throws up his hands in defeat, grabs his violin and slams into his bedroom to make music out of his frustration. 

Sherlock’s in there for the rest of the day, so much so then when darkness falls and stars arrive, John has to gingerly knock on his door.  
“Sherlock?” The Doctor peeks into the room to find Sherlock in his lay-flat thinking pose.  
“Hm?”  
“It’s bed time” John points out, sheepishly.  
Sherlock knows what he’s asking.  
“Well then” Sherlock climbs up off the bed, “I’m coming.”  
John gives him a grateful smile.

After that, John began drinking every day. At first, just one bottle, then two, then three per day, and that’s when Sherlock had to put his foot down.  
“John!” Sherlock snatched the fourth bottle of beer out of John’s hand the night before his wedding. “You are getting married tomorrow! Don’t you want to look respectable for Mary?”  
“Not really” John mumbled. He suddenly sprang from his chair, staring at Sherlock with a mad look of lust in his eyes, “I don’t want her, I want _you,_ Sherlock.”  
Before Sherlock can say anything, John is kissing him. Passionately, desperately, hungrily, already using his hands to explore shirt buttons.

Sherlock loses all bearings on his brilliant mind out of both shock and passion. He now knows it’s possible for even _him_ to be overcome with passion. He’s wanted John since day one, and all other information such as; what about Mary? What about the wedding? Shouldn’t we talk about this?  
Utterly leaves his head, as he’s kissing feverishly back. Soon, their both panting, and wind up tearing each other’s clothes off in the bedroom.

Another thing that can be forgotten in passion; protection.  
Neither of them pause to consider that before John is releasing directly into Sherlock.

John Watson awakens. His head is buzzing even though he wasn’t drunk last night. A little tipsy, sure, but still in complete control of himself.  
No, drink didn’t do this. Blind, kept-caged-for-too-long passion did this.  
Oh God, this.

The army veteran sits up, and he’s in Sherlock Holmes’ bed. He’s naked and there’s still cum upon his naked body. Sherlock is asleep beneath him, naked and even more cum covered.  
John had been sleeping on his chest.  
Oh, God. What has he **_done?_**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

“Sherlock?” John gently shakes the detective awake.  
Sherlock stirs, blinking heavily and rubbing at his beautiful multi coloured eyes. When he’s finally awake enough to take in his surroundings, he simply says, “ah.”  
“Yes, ah” John agrees.   
Sherlock sits himself up, “Jeez” he whistles, taking in his bed - all bed coverings have been thrown to the floor, the mattress a galaxy of sweat stains and cum, the bed looking more worn then it did before - “at least we had fun?” He attempts, lamely.  
John almost smiles - until, like a gong going off in his head, his senses return.

“SHIT!” He yells. “I’m supposed to be getting married in a couple of hours!”  
“You don’t need to remind me!” Sherlock replies, hopping out of bed, wrapping the remains of a poor abused sheet around him. “Look” he says seriously, locking eyes with John, “I won’t say anything John. I’m not happy about sleeping with an engaged man either, believe me, and the last thing I want to do is ruin your marriage before it even can begin. So, this was a mistake, no hard feelings, we can part as friends. Now, let’s focus on getting you married?”   
John allows himself a minute to consider. He can’t very well leave Mary at the altar, can he? Besides, what happened here was...well, Sherlock put it best, a mistake.   
Right? 

John looks up at Sherlock. Beautiful, wonderful Sherlock. “Do you...did you...” John’s not sure what he’s trying to ask. “Do you feel anything for me? Or was this just a mistake for you?”  
A look of such horrific conflict takes hold of Sherlock’s face that John feels guilt for inflicting such an emotion upon his best friend. Sherlock’s brilliant eyes flick two and fro, as if he’s mentally fighting a war between two answers. Finally he says, “I need a shower, and you need to go to your wedding.”   
John deflates.  
Well, that answers that then.  
Any thought of leaving Mary has now become pointless. If Sherlock doesn’t want him, then John may has well settle for what he has got.  
At least Mary does want him, and John wants her, he really does, just...  
Not as badly at he wants him, but Sherlock is a dream John will never obtain, like becoming a millionaire or moving to Florida. The dreams we know will never come true.   
Mary - she’ll do.   
She’ll substitute.

The wedding goes on as planned. Sherlock is as good as his word, he keeps their secret without so much as a flicker of guilt upon his well controlled mask of a face. He plays a waltz he wrote just for John. He refolds napkins when they fall apart. He makes his best man speech. “John, you can sit there with confidence knowing that you sit between the two people who love you most in the world” he says, and John has to gulp down his hope.   
He doesn’t mean that kind of love, he has to tell himself firmly.

After the first dance is over, John looks around to realise that Sherlock is missing, and, asking around, he finds out Molly saw him leave, which leaves John with a heavy sigh to heave in his chest. He doesn’t blame Sherlock, even though its the doctors strong belief that the detective doesn’t feel anything but friendship for John, it still can’t be easy for him to see someone he spent the night in bed with getting married to someone else. John resists the urge to abandon his own wedding to go chasing after the genius, but he does send him a text:  
 **I’m sorry. I know being at my wedding must have felt weird after last night.**  
A few minutes later, Sherlock texts back: **Needs must -SH.**  
And that’s all John gets.

Sherlock hoped that would be the end of it. Of course, he was hopelessly in love with John, but clearly John didn’t love him. So they’d had a one night stand, these things happen, he supposed. He was going to do his best to delete that information from his hard drive, it hurt too much to remember it, and he was just getting up the courage to do so - after all, it was going to be his one and only night with John, he wanted to remember it, even though it hurt - when he noticed a tinie, tiny problem.  
It had been a month since John had gotten married, and Sherlock’s monthly Heat hadn’t come.  
Hoping severely its just late, Sherlock gives it another week before he takes himself to the doctors and gets a blood test.  
“You’re five weeks pregnant” they tell him.  
“Shit” is all Sherlock could say. 

Now, Sherlock is pacing his flat, having text the only person he could possibly think of support, the man who helped him be fake dead for two years.   
“Mycroft, what am I gonna do?!” Sherlock can’t seem to stop pacing. “As soon as I tell John, Mary will have to know too.”  
“So?” Mycroft asks.  
“SO?!” Sherlock repeats, unable to believe his brother at times. “That means she’ll know he cheated, it could destroy their marriage.”   
“Perhaps it should, that’s what John gets for cheating” Mycroft nods.  
“Not helpful!” Sherlock huffs. He finally stops pacing, “are you going to give me any helpful advice, or not?”  
Mycroft, sat on the sofa, umbrella in hand, studies his brother for a long moment, “does John need to know? I’ve kept bigger things then this hush hush.”  
Sherlock nibbles his lip, “okay” he flops down on the sofa beside his brother. “Let’s consider my options. One; giving the baby up for adoption. I suppose you’d hide me somewhere until I delivered, then I could come back like nothing happened.”  
“That could be arranged” agrees Mycroft.  
“But that means lying to John for the rest of our lives. He’ll go his whole life having a child out there in the world and what, just not know it?” Sherlock shakes his head. “No, not an option. I wouldn’t do that to him, ever.”   
“Abortion then.”  
“Again, I feel he should know, he’s the father after all” sighs Sherlock, “otherwise that’s lying by omission, just not telling him I was ever pregnant. He should be present, anything that happens should be his decision too.”  
“Sounds like you have to tell him then” Mycroft summarizes.   
“And if I break up his marriage?” Sherlock asks miserably. “John’s happy, Mycroft, I don’t want to ruin that for him.”

John Watson is not happy. He’s been married to Mary for a month and he’s never been more bored. Domestic life, just going from the clinic and back home, does not suit him.  
He misses Sherlock. Even though they still text all the time, John hasn’t actually seen him since the wedding, and never before has he missed the mad genius so much in his life.  
He misses coming home to crazy smelling experiments, he misses running the street after criminals, he misses mystery and danger. Guns, threats and bombs. He miserly watches the news and reads the paper that Sherlock is still assisting Scotland Yard, and John can’t believe he’s missing it.  
God He misses Sherlock’s brilliance. He misses Sherlock talking out loud to him for hours. He misses the fact that Sherlock could crack any code, figure out any problem, see the unseen. That man is truly gifted, and just standing near him was an incredible experience.   
He misses the smell of Sherlock’s cologne. His smile, his cheekbones. He misses Sherlock’s coat and scarf. He misses Sherlock’s shirt, the buttons always straining, his clothes always wrinkled cause he forgets to do his laundry.   
His personality. Erratic yet caring. Chaotic yet loving. Kind yet brutal to those who have it coming.   
He was perfect, in John’s humble opinion.

John spends every minute wishing he was at home, with Sherlock.  
Every time the phone pings with an alert, he has a crazy hope that its Sherlock asking him to come home. He’d take any excuse to be honest. If Sherlock announced he’d gotten a puppy and needed help caring for it, John would use that as the reason why he simply must permanently return to 221B.  
Because he wouldn’t ever, ever say no if Sherlock asked him to come back.

“Look” Mycroft says softly, “you just found out yourself today, maybe you just need some time to adjust, decide how you feel about it. Whilst I agree that any decision made needs to include John, you’re the one who’s going to be doing all the hard work after all, so it needs to be mostly your decision.”   
Sherlock sighs out a long breath, “I think you’re right. You know what? I need a holiday.”  
Mycroft chuckles, “we could go visit Mummy?”  
“Nah” Sherlock opens his eyes, “I don’t want anyone else to know about this until I’ve made a decision, and Mummy will just sense it.”  
Mycroft can’t contain a smirk, “well that’s true.”  
“I think I’ll take myself to the beach” Sherlock says, standing up and stretching himself. “You stay here and, I dunno, run England, I guess?”   
“Can do” Mycroft chuckles briefly. Mycroft never laughs for long, he’s too controlled for that. “Have a nice holiday, I’ll try to make sure Scotland Yard doesn’t crumple while you’re gone.”  
Sherlock manages a laugh.

The phone pings and John leaps for it. He knows its silly to imagine that its a sudden confession of love from Sherlock, but hope he still does.  
 **Going on holiday, I’ll send you a postcard -SH.**  
What? John frowns.  
 **Where? When? Why?** John texts back.  
 **The beach. Right now, because I need to get away from everything for a while. Any more questions? -SH**  
 **Can I come with you?** John immediately asks.  
 **Ha, I think I’m good, I need to be by myself for a while. Ya know? -SH**  
 **Well, so long as you’re safe. Will you text me?**  
 **Irregularly. Don’t worry though. I’ll be home soon. I promise. -SH**

That’s the text exchange John had two weeks ago, and Sherlock still isn’t back. He really did get a postcard, and gets selfies of Sherlock on the beach, but the answers to his texts become less consistent but John tries not to mind too much. After all, Sherlock must be busy on his holiday.   
However, with Sherlock gone, John has been feeling…emptier. Like his world has lost colour. He often finds himself just staring at any empty chair, wishing Sherlock was sitting in it.

He’ll never admit it, but the reason he hit the bottle and began having his night terrors again was because he was out of his mind stressed, knowing he was marrying the wrong person.  
Well not wrong, just…not exactly right. It was hard to explain. It’s just not a matter of being bored, its that John would rather be with Sherlock.  
It was like, when a child wants to be an astronaut when they grow up, and that’s their big passion, but they learn that some dreams just cannot be reached, so they settle for a different career, one that will satisfy them, but…every now and again they’ll look up at the stars and wish that they could be up there instead.  
That’s what marrying Mary was. John is happy with her, he is, but…he also happens to spend every day thinking about how he’d be happier with Sherlock.  
Who’s he kidding, he’s in denial. He can’t be that happy if he’s spending every moment of the day thinking about how he’d rather be with someone else.  
But what’s he supposed to do? Leave Mary, the only woman who’ll have him? Every other woman decides that -  
That John is in love with Sherlock, and leaves him.  
Which is true, but still.

Every day, he considers leaving Mary, but…Then what?  
So he leaves Mary, then what? Is he expecting to leap into Sherlock’s arms and for the two of them to walk off into the sunset like some romance movie?  
Yeah, right. He’ll just go back to the way things were. Pinning after Sherlock for the rest of his life, forever in a one-sided romance.

Mary finds her husband sat in the arm chair, his shoes and socks off, staring miserably at the empty chair opposite him.  
“Oh for goodness sake John” Mary can’t help saying, “you’re acting like he’s died! Sherlock’s only been away for a month.”  
“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss him” John says sulkily.   
“Well we’ve been married two months now. We could have a little anniversary? Go to a hotel? Have dinner somewhere special, go sightseeing?”  
“No thanks” John mopes.  
“You’d rather sit there and stare at that chair?”  
John shrugs.  
Mary stares at him miserably, “why can’t I make you happy? Why aren’t I enough?”  
“It’s not you” John grunts.   
“I’m just not him” Mary concluded, sadly.   
John looks away, neither confirming or denying this. Which is all the answer Mary really needs. Mary slumps into a miserably hunched position and drags her feet, weighing like iron, out the front door. Her own husband doesn’t even come after her. She stays gone almost all day and yet when she returns, John doesn’t even seem to have noticed she was gone. He’s still moping about the house.   
And that’s when Mary starts seriously wondering why he John did marry her, when its clearly him John wants.

Mary severely hopes that Sherlock will be back soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Sherlock hasn’t done anything all that exciting on his holiday. He just spent plenty of time alone, thinking one big question: what does he want?  
He comes to truly understand that no matter what he decides, John will have to know. So, at least for right now, he has to stop worrying about the effect his admission of his pregnancy will do, and focus on what his pregnancy actually means; a baby. What does he want to do about that, is the real question.  
He knows John will be there for him, no matter what he decides. If he wants an abortion, John will be at the clinic supporting him through it, and if….Sherlock can’t even finish the thought. He can’t imagine giving the baby up, going for the rest of his life knowing he gave up a child, knowing he has a child out there somewhere, a child who will spend their whole lives wondering why they weren’t good enough for their parents…  
God no.  
Its either abortion or keeping the baby, raising them, becoming a parent…

Sherlock knows John will support him. Co-parent with him, pay him child support, be at his side. They won’t be a couple, but they will be a family. Sherlock knows John shares all his values on that front. They would be a united team, even though they’ll live in separate homes. They’ll let their child know that their loved, even if their Dad’s aren’t together.   
John would make an excellent father. Sherlock knows its a secret desire of the Captain’s to have kids, and Sherlock knows he’ll be wonderful at it too. He’s loyal and caring, compassionate and loving. He’ll give their child all they need in love and support.  
Sherlock doesn’t have to worry about money either. He makes good money from Scotland Yard. Although he’s not technically not an official detective, he gets paid as one. Scotland Yard, as begrudging as they are to his help, know he’s too valuable to them not to get paid.  
Even though, Sherlock has Mycroft, who he knows will be a very generous uncle. The baby will have the very best of everything, no payback to their rich uncle required. Sherlock can see it coming already.  
So he knows he’s got the backing, so the only real question left is; is he ready? 

“I wonder what you’d think of me now” the genius finds himself standing over Moriarty’s grave, chatting to the coffin below. “I never saw myself as the fatherly type. I used to say to Mycroft that I’d have my womb removed tomorrow, if I could, that’s how certain I was about not employing my Omega-baby-carrying nature. Maybe some day, I always thought, I’d adopt, although I’d have to be settled down with someone really special first, but never _pregnant._ You’d laugh your head off if you were here, I’m sure. The great Sherlock Holmes; genius, detective, Mommy” Sherlock shakes his head in dismay, “I dunno” he sighs, “I don’t care what people think of me, I really don’t, its just hard to see _myself_ that way, you know?”  
Of course, the grave doesn’t offer much feedback, but it feels good to say these bottled-up feelings out loud anyway.   
Seems Sherlock Holmes, the brilliant mind who can figure out the most baffling cases in England within days or sometimes even hours, cases that would take the usual police months if not years - is lost.

Mary can see that John is unhappy with her. He’s always so distant, emotionally unplugged. Their newly-weds, for goodness sake! Their supposed to be head over heels in love, unable to keep their hands off each other, but instead they couldn’t be further apart. Even when their sat in the same room, John is too busy being lost in thought, off somewhere distant in his mind. Probably with him.  
It’s like watching a puppy in pain. Mary blindly hopes that things will improve once Sherlock comes back after his little holiday, but she fears that she will never be able to make John happy the way he can.

_He_ arrives back in their lives soon after, a month and two days after he left, and two months and three weeks since the wedding.   
John is still moping when Sherlock’s text tone plays. Sherlock gets a customised tone, a few strings of a beautiful violin piece play. Mary gets a generic factory text tone. Not that she pays this any attention, or anything.  
When the musical tone plays, John practically leaps across the room to get his phone off the table and soaks in the text excitedly.  
“Sherlock’s home!” John is like a freshly released firework, suddenly all alight, bright and joyous, like a black and white cartoon suddenly translated into colour. “I’m gonna go see him!” already he’s in his coat, moving with more energy then he has in the two weeks Sherlock has been away. “Bye!” he calls cheerfully, and Mary can’t help feeling lifted by John’s rise in spirits. Whatever the reason, its just nice to see John happy again.  
Even if its not her causing that emotion.

**John, I’m home. Come to Baker Street urgently if convenient. If inconvenient, come all the same. -SH.**

John is practically skipping down the road. He’s never been happier to get a text! He’s let in by Mrs Hudson and goes dancing up the stairs. He raps musically upon the door to the flat.  
Sherlock Holmes pulls the door open. He’s his usual smart self, clean and well kept. His lovely chocolate curls are freshly washed, shiny and beautiful. Today he wears a blue shirt the same colour of his infamous blue scarf, black buttoned up blazer and trousers. He grins at John, “hey you came.”  
“Of course” John smiles brightly, feeling freshly alive. Thrill in his heart and hope in his veins as he steps inside. “It’s always a convenient time when it comes to you.” He opens his arms and Sherlock gladly expects a quick hug, “never go away again” John warms sternly. “I almost went insane without you here!”  
Sherlock laughs, “noted” he nods, heading for the kitchen, “Cuppa?” Sherlock offers.  
“I’ll get it” John jumps at the chance of making himself useful to Sherlock, he always has. He scans Sherlock happily as the detective leans against the wall between between and lounge. The genius has put on a little weight. It would go unnoticed by anyone who wasn’t his once live-in doctor. “I’m glad to see you’ve been eating well Sherlock. I was worried you wouldn’t.”  
“You calling me fat?” Sherlock pretends to be cross, folding his arms stubbornly.  
“Yes” John teases, grinning back.  
“Says the man who looks like he hasn’t been eating” Sherlock declares, “you’ve lost seven pounds.”  
“Only five” corrects John.  
“Seven” Sherlock insists. “You must remember to eat, John.”  
“Yes sir” John salutes.  
“Promise?” Sherlock promotes. “For me?”  
“For you? Anything” John proclaims, smiling lovingly.

Soon, their back in their old positions, sat opposite one another beside the fire, cups of tea steaming in their hands.  
“I missed you” John confesses, “a lot.”  
“I missed you too” Sherlock smiles fondly.  
“I kept up with you a little last month” John tells. “I saw you were still working with Scotland Yard, solve anything interesting?”  
“Not really” sighs Sherlock, “I haven’t solved a thing in the past two months.”  
John’s eyes widen in horror, “no! You?!”  
“I know” Sherlock shakes his head in dismay, “I haven’t been able to focus. I just keep -” he stops, staring at John.  
For a long moment, neither of them moves.  
“I miss you, I suppose” Sherlock admits, looking shyly away. “I can’t deduce a thing without my conductor of light.”  
John flushes happily, before the momentary glee leaves him, “I haven’t been able to focus either. I’ve been so bored, I felt like shooting the wall!” John manages a chuckle. “Seems I’m as addicted to action and adventure as you are, I’ve felt lost without it.”  
“Well then, I need you to deduce, you need my adventure, why not come back to solving things with me?” Sherlock asks with an inviting smile.  
“Can I?” John asks, eagerly, his blood fizzing excitedly already.  
“Of course you can silly” Sherlock chuckles.   
“Oh thank goodness! I just about died of boredom without you!” John is laughing brightly, almost hysterical with glee.   
“And I made rubbish deductions! I think Lestrade was just involving me out of pity!” Sherlock laughs, and the two are laughing together like they haven’t spent so much as a day apart. 

“So I’ll text you, let you know when I’ve got a case” Sherlock tells.  
“That’d be great, and you can bet your lot that I’ll come rushing over” John promises. “Don’t I always?”  
“That you do” Sherlock smiles fondly.  
“So where you been? Update me” John says, sipping his tea.  
“No where really, went to the beach, got some sunshine, have I tanned?”  
“A little actually” John admires, “had I been you, I’d have been able to deduce that you’d recently been somewhere warm.”  
“I didn’t instantly become good at that you know” chuckles Sherlock, “it took practice. Who knows? Maybe some day you’ll be deducing as well as I do.”  
“I wish” John rolls his eyes.  
“Anyway, back the reason I asked you to come” Sherlock says, refocusing. “I need to tell you something. It’s probably going to be a bit of a shock.”  
“Okay?” John says curiously, taking a sip of tea.

“I’m pregnant” Sherlock won’t meet his friends eye.   
John chokes so hard he ends up spitting up his mouthful of tea, spraying it everywhere as he hacks.

“Sorry!” Sherlock says, putting his own cup down and racing over to pat John lightly on the back, “I probably could have timed that better. A bit not good.”   
John almost slams his cup down as he recovers from his coughing fit, “what - but - who - when - who’s the father?!” he demands, ready to kill the man who did this to his Sherlock! He looks up, and sees Sherlock’s neck is still clean. unMarked, meaning whoever did this didn’t Claim him. The bastard! “What kind of Alpha doesn’t Claim an Omega he sleeps with?!” he asserts angrily.  
“You, you idiot!” Sherlock tuts, insulted. “I haven’t been near anyone else since university, thank you very much! What do you take me for?”  
John blinks, everything suddenly fitting together.   
“O-oh” John stammers.  
“Yes John, ‘oh’” Sherlock affirms. 

“Oh, God Sherlock” John climbs unsteadily to his feet. He’s shaking. “I’m - I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have - I’m sorry, I should have been more careful, worn protection, minimum.”  
“We shouldn’t have had a one night stand period, but there we go” shrugs Sherlock. “Neither of us planned this, its nobody’s fault.”  
John lets out a breath and opens his arms. Sherlock gladly accepts a hug, the two embracing close together, breathing in each others scent and taking comfort in the warmth and familiarity of each other’s arms.  
“Well I’m here for you” John tells him softly, unable to stop his hand from stroking through those luscious curls. He stops himself after one stroke though, too far. “I hope you know that.”  
“I do” Sherlock says, his chin contently upon John’s shoulder. 

It’s at that exact moment that it strikes John Watson.  
This is it! This is the excuse he’s been waiting for. Now, Mary will have to know he cheated, and that will be the end of their marriage, a marriage John was just waiting for an excuse to get out of.  
“Oh Sherlock” John is suddenly breathless with joy, “this is wonderful!”  
Sherlock leans away, looking a little confused, “what? Aren’t you worried this will destroy your marriage? I know I am! That’s why I was worried about what would happen after I told you.”   
“No Sherlock” John is absolutely beaming, “I’m not worried about that _**at all!**_ ”


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Sherlock is looking at John the way he looks at people when he’s deducing them, his rainbow eyes so intense that it makes John’s skin tingle. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sherlock asks right off.  
“Well…” John hesitates, “I’ll tell you later. For now, we best discuss this pregnancy. First things first, and all that.”  
“No no no” Sherlock folds his arms and dips his hips, standing firm, “you’re telling me what you meant, otherwise I’m not discussing anything.”  
For a while, the two of them have a stare down, but John soon realises that Sherlock isn’t budging, physically or emotionally, till John spills his guts.  
“Fine” John gives in, “let’s sit at least?” he gestures towards the table in the living room, and the two of them sit down at it.   
“I’m listening” Sherlock invites. 

“Well” John swallows, he can’t find the words.  
“A sharp knife cuts clean John” Sherlock tells. “Just say it. I’ve faced down Moriarty, nothing you can say will shock me.”  
“Fine” John says, deciding he’s right. “I’m unhappy with Mary.”  
Sherlock’s pupils shrink inwards in surprise.  
“Yep” John sinks back in his chair with the relief of saying this out loud. “I’ve come to the very heavy realisation that I don’t love her. I think I was just lonely while you were fake dead, so I thought I was in love when really I just missed you.”  
“You could have stayed with me more” Sherlock points out. “You could of acted like your grief was so bad you needed to stay with my brother, or whatever, you could have been there more.”  
“Well I thought you wanted me out from under your feet. You were so busy all the time, I thought I’d be getting your way if I hung around.”  
“I don’t recall ever saying that. You know I appreciate your company. You’re supposed to be my partner after all.”  
This stings, but John realises that, as usual, Sherlock is right. “Right as usual” he verbalises. “I was presuming things. I was on dates when I should have been at your side. Maybe if I had been, none of this would have happened.”  
Sherlock softens, “well, I could have made my needs clearer. Sorry, I’m hormonal.”  
John can’t help a quick smirk, “you’re also right. You have a right to be mad at me, I didn’t support you when you needed me, and I’m sorry.”  
“You’re forgiven. Now” Sherlock scoots closer like a man eager to see his favourite soap opera continue, “tell me more about this Mary situation then.”

“Well” John thinks, “To be really, really honest with you Sherlock, I’m really glad this has happened, because once she knows I’ve cheated she’ll leave me, and I don’t have to worry about leaving her” John tells.   
Sherlock is staring in amazement, “if you’re that unhappy, why didn’t you pick up and leave? Why do you need her to leave you?”  
John shrug sadly, “You know what I’m like Sherlock, I bravely soldier on. I’d have possibly done so for years if this hadn’t come up, because there was nothing really wrong, you know? There just wasn’t anything right either.”   
Sherlock is staring at the ceiling. For a long moment, he seems lost in thought before he thoughtfully continues, “I can’t say I personally understand that mindset. Surely being unhappy in your marriage is enough, why do you need to be busted for cheating to leave?”  
“I don’t know Sherlock. Probably the solider mindset, never say ‘die’. Being unhappy, that’s no excuse to stop. In the field, you have to keep going no matter what. I guess its hard for me to abandon that mindset, so being simply unhappy just wasn’t a good enough reason to me.”  
“Well it should have been” Sherlock tells firmly. “You know I’m not good at expressing myself, but, ya know…you’re worth….you’re worth that.” He finally manages.  
“Well it doesn’t matter now because Mary will leave me” John says, “and I can be get out of this miserable marriage.”  
“Jeez” Sherlock whistles, seemingly a little stunned and overwhelmed.

For a long moment, they both stare off at nothing, letting all that sink in.  
“And to think” Sherlock says eventually. “I spent the last month so worried that telling you about this pregnancy would ruin your marriage. Of course I knew I had to anyway, but still, I was so scared.” He closes his eyes painfully, “the last thing I ever wanted was to break your heart or make you unhappy. I didn’t want to ruin your new life for you.”  
“Oh Sherlock, you could never do any of those things” John says lovingly, leaning across the table towards him, “even if my marriage had been the world’s happiest, it still wouldn’t have been your fault if it fell apart over this. I’m the one who cheated.”  
“I cheated with you” Sherlock reminds.  
“Okay” John smiles, “then we’d have ruined my life as a team.”  
Sherlock smirks and opens his eyes, “but we didn’t?”  
“No” John smiles, “you getting knocked up has saved my life, because its proof I’ve cheated that nobody can deny.”  
“Glad to hear it, I guess!” Sherlock states, unsurely.  
“Can we actually talk about the elephant in the room now?” John asks.  
“We may” Sherlock nods. “Ask the thing you’ve been waiting to ask me.”

John is about to ask how Sherlock knew John was was waiting to ask something, but then he remembers who he’s talking to.  
“Well, first things first” John begins, bravely,“let’s move to the sofa, having the table between us like this is just too awkward.” They do so, sitting side by side on the sofa before John goes on, “now, I’m gonna be right here for you, whatever you need, and whatever you decide. You need it, I’m there. I hope you know that.”  
“I do” smiles Sherlock, “I knew you’d be supportive. You’re that kind of guy.”  
John gives him a smile, “thanks.” He clears his throat, “so have…have you thought about what you’d like to do?” John asks softly, “I want to be part of any decision of course, but it your body that it will be happening to after all, regardless of the decision we make.”  
“I knew you’d be like that too, respectful to the end” Sherlock says fondly. “Well, after very careful consideration, I’ve decided I’d like to keep our baby.”

John can’t contain a delighted squeal! Lighting up like a Christmas tree, glowing like the sun, beaming like a smug cat! He’s like a plug that’s finally found a socket. He’s suddenly laughing with absolute elated glee, “I’m going to be a Dad!” he ejaculates.  
“You are!” chuckles Sherlock, who gets immediately swallowed in a giant hug, and suddenly he’s getting squeezed all over again.  
“I can’t believe it! I’m really going to be a Dad!” John is so happy he’s practically dancing in his seat, higher then Heaven itself. He’s suddenly the most alight, most joyous Sherlock has ever seen. Happier then he is after a thrilling adventure. More hopeful then he was when Sherlock asked him if he’d like to see some more trouble and the doctor excitedly breathed ‘oh God yes.’   
In an instant, Sherlock Holmes has made his best friend the happiest man on the planet! He’s smiling down at Sherlock’s tum, “I guess technically I already am” he glows, placing a gentle hand upon it, “thank you” he literally is glowing, his eyes shining with pure euphoria, “This is your best miracle yet!” John decides, elated.  
Sherlock can’t help a chuckle, “jeez thanks, it was easy compared to all my other ones!”  
The two laugh together.

Their breathlessly close. John has one arm around Sherlock from their hug and his other hand is still resting on Sherlock’s tum but Sherlock isn’t moving him and John doesn’t want to move, so they don’t.   
“So by my math you’re ten weeks?” John asks.  
“Sure am” Sherlock smiles, “I was just at the doctors yesterday. Doctor says both baby and I are in perfect health.”   
“I’m so glad” John tells him genuinely. “Any morning sickness or anything like that?”  
“So far nothing thank goodness” Sherlock tells.   
“I’m so glad” John assures him, smiling contently, looking like a man who’s witnessing the birth of the stars. “Thank you for taking such good care of yourself Sherlock.”  
“Well it hasn’t been easy!” Sherlock cries theatrically, before swinging his long legs across John’s lap and flopping backwards on the sofa, resting his head on one end of the sofa, his legs across John and his feet on the other end. “You would not believe how badly I’m dying for a cigarette!”   
John laughs, “I’ll bet!” As much as he likes Sherlock lying on him, he misses having Sherlock in his arms already. “So, just so were clear” he says slowly after a moment. “I can move back in?”  
“Of course you can silly” Sherlock smiles. “In fact” Sherlock swings his long legs and is up, swanning into his bedroom and returning with what John recognises as his old set of keys. A key to the front door, and one to door to the flat, “here” Sherlock smiles,tossing them to John, “this is your home now, as soon as you want it.”  
”Oh trust me, I’ll be back as soon as I can” John says brightly, clutching his precious keys close. “Hopefully I can get everything sorted with Mary within a few days.”  
“Sounds like a plan” Sherlock says, before laughing suddenly, “I can’t believe this. I wasted a whole month being worried over nothing!”  
John chuckles, “happens to us all. I guess the brilliant Sherlock Holmes was wrong for once!”  
“Never been more relived to be wrong” Sherlock smiles warmly. “Although, its not a complete shock. You being stressed about marrying a woman you don’t love does explain the night terrors and the drinking, unless there was another reason?”  
“No, that was it” John nods.  
“And why you rarely wore your wedding band?” Sherlock nods at John’s left hand.

John looks down at own hand. He didn’t even realise he wasn’t wearing his ring.  
“Do I do that often?” John asks, frowning.  
“Certainly. The imprint of your ring is almost non existent, meaning you wear it very rarely.”  
“Can’t get anything past you can I?” John says. “Yeah, I guess I forget, mostly cause I don’t care enough to remember.”  
“See? There were signs” Sherlock nods, points made. He smiles softly at John’s wrist, “glad to see you don’t forget other things.” John realises Sherlock is peering at John’s beloved watch. “You’ve worn that every day for over two years without fail. You even clean it and put it in a special box at night.”   
“Well that’s because you gave it to me before you fake died, to remind me that you’d be back” Frown says, stroking said precious watch. It has an inscription on the side of its face, ‘I or A? -SH.’ It stands for ‘Iraq or Afghanistan?’ and always fills John with happy memories. He looks at it whenever he needs to draw strength. “Of course I wear it every day. What’s your point?”  
Sherlock has a smug look on his face, like that’s his point proven, “oh, nothing. Just glad that I’m important enough to be remembered.”  
“Of course you are silly!” John reinforces, before the two smile warmly at each other.

After a moment, John clears his throat, “I also want to be fully involved in the pregnancy, if that’s okay with you. Take you to the doctors appointments, be present at the sonograms, all things like that.”  
“Of course, I wouldn’t go without you for the world” Sherlock assures.   
“And, you’ll update me? Often?” John asks, hopefully, “let me know how you’re feeling? I want to be there for you if you feel sick or tired or sore. I want to be here, period, basically.”  
“I’ll update you daily, I promise” Sherlock assures before he chuckles suddenly, “look at you! Wanting to know if I don’t feel well, all full of questions. You’re a worried Daddy already.”   
“I can’t help it!” chuckles John. “You know how much I care about you, but do tell me if I’m getting annoying.”  
“You could never be annoying” Sherlock declares lovingly.

“How have your night terrors been by the way?” Sherlock asks a calm pause later. “I imagine if Mary is the cause, they haven’t let up any?”  
“No” John admits, staring at the floor. “I’ve sleeping in the spare room, have been since the wedding.  
I told myself it was because I didn’t want to wake Mary up, but really it was because I didn’t want to be in bed with her.”  
“Damn, sounds like there was no real marriage for me to ruin” Sherlock shakes his head in dismay.   
“Nope” John agrees. “Mary and I are more like room mates. Have been since day one.”  
“Jesus John” huffs Sherlock. “Well” he says thoughtfully. “Until you figure things out with Mary, how about we FaceTime at bedtime? Not to toot my own horn, but you seem to sleep fine if I’m beside you, so maybe seeing me before bed will help?”  
“That really would, actually” John realises. “You wouldn’t mind calling me every night like that?”  
“Why not? We’ll be talking every day until you move back in anyway” Sherlock shrugs. “Besides, I can’t have you not sleeping, can I Doctor?” Sherlock teases.   
John rolls hie eyes, but smiles fondly. “Thank you Sherlock, seriously.”  
“No problem” Sherlock says like its no big deal. “I’ll have Mrs Hudson refresh your room upstairs” Sherlock says. “Clean sheets, give your curtains a wash, all the good stuff.”  
“Well won’t I be sharing your bed?” John asks, before realising how that sounds, “umm, for you know, um, my nightmares.”  
Sherlock smiles smugly at him, “but you said the nightmares were because of Mary? Once you leave her, surely you won’t be having them any more?”  
“Well, um, ur” John blushes, “maybe we can have two single beds put in your room instead, then. After all, where are going to put a nursery otherwise?”  
“Hmmm” Sherlock says, suspiciously. “Fair enough.”  
“Well, ur” John coughs away the awkwardness. “Anyway, do you think your brother would help me get a quickie divorce?”  
“I’m sure he will” nods Sherlock, “knowing Mycroft, he can probably have you fully divorced within a couple of days.”  
“Great, he finally comes in handy” John nods, “well, I’ll send you updates, and I expect the same from you!”   
Sherlock salutes, “yes Captain!”

John manages a quick laugh and heads for the door. As he reaches it, he can feel his stomach twist.  
“This isn’t going to be easy” John admits, peering over his shoulder at Sherlock. “I may not be in love with Mary, but she’s certainly in love with me. This will break her heart.”  
“I know” Sherlock says softly, with sympathetic eyes. “Try to put it as gently as possible, if there is such a way to deliver such news gently.”  
“I will” John promises, “I hope Mary and I can stay friends after this, because she was a wonderful friend, its just that I didn’t want her as my wife.”  
“Tell her so, and hopefully all three of us can find ourselves in a spot where all of this mess is behind us one day” Sherlock says.  
“I hope so too” John agrees, “let me know if you need me?”  
“I will” Sherlock promises.  
“Okay” John takes one last look at Sherlock for bravery, and manages a weak smile, “if we faced down bomb threats and took down Moriarty, I can handle this, right?”   
“I believe you can” Sherlock assures. “You got this solider.”  
John gives him a smile, “okay, going this time.”  
“Go on, shoo” Sherlock waves. “I need to go to my Mind Palace anyway.”  
John grins fondly, then slips out of the flat to face his fate.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Sherlock wasn’t kidding about his Mind Palace. Once John is gone, Sherlock feels the need to off load to someone, and his brother is useless at the kinds of emotions Sherlock is going through right now, so, once he’s sure it’s all quiet, he curls up in his armchair and he allows himself to slip into his Mind Palace.   
Sherlock’s imagination is as powerful as the rest of his mind. So bringing the memory to life is easy for him.

He looks to John’s usual chair and the image comes to life there.  
“Hello Sheryl” Mind Palace Moriarty, in his suit and looking like his refined self, grins. He looks as real and as life-like as if he were really here.  
“Hey” Sherlock smiles at him, oddly happily to see him. “I have updates.”  
“Hit me” MP Moriarty invites.  
“I was so worried about ruining John’s marriage, but turns out, John was just waiting for an excuse to leave!”  
“No!” MP Moriarty gay gasps.   
“Yeah! He actually seems really happy. Happy to be a father, obviously, but also happy to have the perfect excuse to leave.”  
“Damn. Colonel Moran and I were sex friends, we both slept openly with other people, and I would have still had more of a reaction over losing him then Johnny boy is having over this Mary woman.”  
“Exactly!” Sherlock cries.  
“You think he’s into you?” MP Moriarty asks, saucily.  
“I think” Sherlock says in a lengthy way, “that John’s feelings for me are complex. I’d have to be blind not to notice him checking me out on a regular basis. The man often licks his lips at me when he thinks I’m not looking for goodness sake!”  
Moriarty laughs, “so he defiantly thinks you’re hot!”  
“And obviously he loves me as a best friend. He admires my intelligent and my gift for deduction, but I don’t think he’s romantically in love with me. I was hot enough to be slept with, but not dated.”  
“Like my sex friends” Moriarty points out.  
“Exactly” Sherlock nods. “I don’t think I’ll ever be more to John Watson then a nice view and a best friend. Which is fine.”  
“It means you get your partner in crime fighting back anyway” Moriarty shrugs.  
“True” Sherlock smiles dreamily, full of hope. “And that will be good enough for me.”

MP Moriarty looks at him for a long moment, then says “I still can’t believe you got yourself pregnant at all. What you’re doing there, Sheryl, is reinforcing the stereotype that we Omegas are nothing but baby-carriers.”  
Sherlock gives a warm chuckle, “I knew you’d say that!”  
“Well I am only a projection of the real Moriarty, a false image created by your subconscious, based solely on your memories of me so of course I say what you expect me to” MP Moriarty points out.   
Sherlock rolls his bright eyes, “well you don’t have to rub it in!” He says brightly, before he lets a warm pause wash over him.   
“You know” he says finally, “I was happy but not surprised when I realised you were an Omega too.”  
“We were two sides of the same coin, Sheryl, so naturally we were two Omegas” MP Moriarty smiles. “Just like we’re both gay, left handed genius’.”  
Sherlock smiles, “yes” he looks at the face he remembers so well, “I miss you, in a funny kind of way. I feel like a bull fighter with no bull to fight.”  
“We did present the perfect challenge for each other” MP Moriarty agrees sadly. “I’d have loved to play more chess games with you. Literally and metaphorically.”

“Yeah” Sherlock agrees softly, “I do grieve for you. I wonder if the real you would like that.”   
“I’m sure he would” MP Moriarty concedes. “I still can’t believe you cheated your way out of our deaths! Me being you, I can see that you told everybody two weeks in advance about your fake death? That brother of yours, John, Inspector Lestrade, even Mrs Hudson! They knew from the first minute you weren’t really dead. How on Earth did you know what I was planning that far ahead?”  
“You said it best yourself Moriarty” Sherlock smiles cockily. “We were two sides of the same coin. Only I shone brighter. I was better then you.”  
“Now who’s rubbing it in?”  
Sherlock laughs heartily. 

Meanwhile, John is preparing himself for a very different kind of conversation.  
He finds himself lingering in the doorway for a long moment. This is a good thing for him, and a good thing for Sherlock, but its not going to be a good thing for Mary. The last thing John ever wants to do it hurt anybody, let alone somebody as innocent as Mary, but it has to be done. There’s no point delaying the inevitable.   
He strokes the watch Sherlock gave him, feeling as if the metal itself is giving him strength, then heads inside, closing the front door behind him. “Hey” Mary smiles as John shuffles sheepishly into the kitchen. “How’s Sherlock? Did he have a nice holiday?” Mary asks as she stands at the sink, scrubbing dishes.   
John reaches over and turns off the tap. Mary looks at him in confusion. “Come sit down” John invites, bleakly.   
Looking confused, Mary is taken over to the sofa and sat down. “I’m just gonna get right to the point” John says, “Sherlock would say that a sharp knife cuts clean, so..” John looks at his wife, who’s peering at him in puzzlement. “I slept with Sherlock” John confesses.  
Mary looks reasonably horrified, “when?!” She demands.   
John swallows, “the night before our wedding.”  
Mary springs to her feet, pacing angrily a few times before turning viciously to her husband, “so, the night before you were making vows to be loyal to only me and be honest with me you were having sex with someone else?!”   
“Yes” John just says. What else can he say?   
Mary throws her heads in her hands, “what else are you lying to me about John?”

John isn’t sure how to answer this, so he just presses on. “That’s not all.”  
Mary peeks up, “it gets worse?”  
“Yeah” John admits. “Sherlock’s pregnant. It’s mine, obviously.”  
Mary freezes like a stuck DVD. She’s just staring at John with complete shock and horror. “The next thing you’ll be telling me is that you knew Sherlock was alive those whole two years, and all the time I spent grieving with you and standing at his grave with you was all a lie. That’s how insane this is to me.”   
John looks guiltily away. He can’t very well admit she’s right. It was all an act. He was texting Sherlock daily the whole time he was ‘dead’.   
“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?!” Mary demands.   
“What am I supposed to say? It’s happened and the result is already here.”

Mary shakes her head in dismay, looking away in angry thought for a long moment.   
“Are you sure this is even true?” Mary spits eventually. “Have you seen proof he’s pregnant?”   
“What is that supposed to mean?!” It’s John’s turn to get angry. “Sherlock would never lie to me!” He almost snaps.   
“He pretended to be dead for two years!!!” Mary yells back.  
“That was different! He gave up his life to save mine!”  
“HE’S STILL A PROVEN LIAR!!”  
After a very angry argument where no progress in any direction is made, both husband and wife stalk off in different directions.

John has a rage filled shower where he mutters dark insults the whole time. He can’t believe Mary would insult Sherlock’s integrity like that. Finally he slams into the spare bedroom - his bedroom really, since he’s been sleeping in it since the wedding - and spends hours in there, fuming.  
He only cheers up when he realises it’s almost bedtime, and that means Sherlock!   
Right on cue, a FaceTime requests starts jingling. John jumps to the door and locks it before pressing the green ‘answer’ button on the FaceTime call and the image of Sherlock sat in his armchair fills the screen.  
“Hey” Sherlock greets softly.“How you doing?”  
“It went as well as a cheating confession can go” sighs John. “Mary is very upset. She accused you of lying about the pregnancy.”  
Sherlock jolts, looking revolted. “As if I would!”  
“I know” John soothes, “you pay her no mind, she doesn’t know the first thing about you. You’re the very soul of integrity.”  
Sherlock smiles prettily, “thanks John. I know it’s not easy right now, but from what you were saying earlier, it’s for the best.”   
“It will be in the long run” John nods. “I don’t like hurting Mary, but I was just hurting her in a more long term way by not being an engaged husband to her.”   
“Yeah” Sherlock agrees. “It must be a complex feeling for you. Sad-happy. Glad yet guilty.”  
“That sums it up” John deflates with the relief of having his feelings pit into words.  
Sherlock gives him a kind look, “want to hear about a complex feeling I have? It’ll make you feel better.”  
“Please” John invites.

Sherlock leans in towards the camera, “I miss Moriarty” Sherlock confesses.   
“You...miss him?” John is clearly bamboozled.   
“Yes. I know, I know, he was the biggest danger England had ever known and everybody is safer now that he’s gone. He threatened you, he threatened me, he forced me to be fake dead for two years, yet I miss him all the same” Sherlock confides. “The way a bullfighter might miss his bull. He was the only person I met who was truly on my intellectual level. Mycroft’s brilliant, but has no desire to share his brilliance. Moriarty and I, we could of talked for years and not gotten bored. It was like a living chess game between us. A rare find.”  
“I get it, I think” John tries, “I guess if you miss him, then you’re allowed to.” 

“I go and see him sometimes, his grave that is, and talk to him in my Mind Palace” Sherlock tells, “I value his opinion of me, in a strange way.”   
“Well I guess you respected him, in an odd way, and he was the only one as clever as you, so of course you value his opinion, I guess” John says thoughtfully. “Like I say, you’re allowed to grieve, even if its for the greatest criminal England has ever known.”  
“Well thanks, and its okay for you to be happy-sad about all this” Sherlock tells. “Shall we cosy into bed then?”  
“Yes” John nods, he lies his phone down on the empty half of the double bed, propped-up against the empty pillow and climbs in beside it, lying himself down and its suddenly like the two of them are lay in bed together, the phone sideways to show Sherlock lying in his own bed. John reaches the charger wire over and plugs his phone into charge for the night.  
“Thanks for being with me Sherlock.”  
“You’re welcome” Sherlock smiles. 

John yawns, “will you keep talking until I fall asleep? Your voice helps.”   
“I sure will” Sherlock says fondly.  
“Promise?”  
“I promise.”   
John closes his eyes, sinking into his pillow. “Thanks. Mary and I will have it all out in the morning and soon I’ll be home.” John smiles as if this thought brings him joy.   
“Goodnight John” Sherlock coos fondly.   
“Goodnight Sherlock” John says, mumbled as he’s already beginning to drift off.

Sherlock goes quiet, admiring his John. Even through the screen, he looks so peaceful.  
Sherlock’s mind is ticking though. He didn’t quite believe it before, but now it all seems overly real. John is leaving his wife and plans to return to Baker Street. Soon they’ll be back to living together and solving mysteries together within days as if nothing happened. That seems insane to Sherlock. How he could go from lost to found so quickly. It’s giving him whiplash. 

“Sherlock?” John mumbles tiredly, his eyes opening in worried searching, checking to see if his friend is still there, and Sherlock remembers he promised to keep talking.   
“Oh sorry, I was thinking” for a moment there Sherlock considered lying and saying he thought that John had fallen asleep. But Sherlock refuses to lie to John, even about the smallest, most harmless little thing, especially so fresh off the heels of John reinstating how deeply he trusts Sherlock’s word.  
“Well get talking then” John prompts.  
“About?” Sherlock asks.  
“I don’t know, tell me a story” John mumbles, already headed back to sleep.   
Sherlock thinks for a moment, “well, I was in the library the other day, researching, and some teenage girls came squeeing up to me, claiming to be be big fans. I swear John, that blog of yours will be the death of me..”   
John chuckles weakly and closes his eyes again. Sherlock goes on, whispering stories of fans he’s run into in the street until John’s breathing deepens and he falls soundly asleep. Once Sherlock is sure he’s out like a light, he smiles and disconnects the call, allowing the phone to go dark.

******** ****** ***** ***

Mary expects to be see John sweaty and dishevelled in the morning, kept awake by night terrors, like every other morning, but that next morning, John is bright and well rested.  
“No nightmares then?” Mary asks over her breakfast.  
“No, thanks for asking” John says, sitting down opposite her with nothing before him. “Sherlock talked to me before bed. I don’t have nightmares so long as I see him before I before asleep.”  
This twists Mary’s heart, “I see.” 

Mary has had all night to toss and turn over this. All her anger left her and she just felt a deep sense of resigned sadness. She saw from day one that her husband was devoted to Sherlock. For goodness sake, the genius only went away for a month and John had practically stopped functioning. Even before that, her husband had been unplugged emotionally. He didn’t kiss her, they didn’t share a room let alone a bed.   
If she’s truly honest with herself, she realises that John didn’t have an affair, not really; because in order to have an affair, you need to be in a relationship already.  
And John was never really Mary’s to begin with.  
He was always Sherlock’s. 

“Are you going to eat today?” Mary asks, to distract himself. “It’s important you have three meals a day John, you haven’t been eating properly since we got married.”  
“Yeah yeah” John mumbles, clearly not listening.   
His phone custom sings with Sherlock’s ringtone and John checks it. He smiles down at his phone.  
“You know what, I will get breakfast” he says, putting his phone on the table and heading for the fridge.  
Mary quickly leans over to peek at the text. It’s a picture of Sherlock, a proud hand on his still flat tum, smiling at the camera, and the message, “ **don’t forget to eat; a little somebody is depending on you! -SH** ”   
And just like that, John is frying himself bacon. Usually, if Mary can get him to eat, it’s no more then an apple, max.  
But with a single text, Sherlock is has him eating properly. 

Mary closes her eyes against the painful truth. She tried to push it away mere moments ago, but this confirms all her worst fears.  
I love you, John Watson. She thinks miserably. But you’re not mine.   
You never were.

“You’ve broken my heart John” Mary says miserably. “But I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. You were never in love with me in the first place, were you?”   
John looks sadly over from the stove, “no. I was just grieving for Sherlock. I’m sorry Mary. I should have never married you. You were a great friend and I was lonely, but I should have just kept you as a friend.”  
“It’s a mess on all sides John” Mary sighs. “We have no real marriage anyway.”   
John just nods, sadly.

Mary looks at John as he serves his breakfast, deep pain in his eyes, and Mary knows she’s the indirect cause.   
“It was partly my fault too” Mary sighs. “I’ve known all along that you were in love with Sherlock, and I knew you were grieving for him. I shouldn’t have asked you in a date in the first place when you were vulnerable. I just really liked you and I thought maybe I could help you heal your grief but I knew even that wouldn’t stop you loving Sherlock. Basically, I shouldn’t have pressed you. I knew you didn’t think much of our first date, but I kept bugging you for a second one, and I think after that you just felt sorry for me. You felt you had to continue the relationship for my sake, even to the point that when I started talking about marriage, you felt you had to propose, hu?”  
“I guess” John says thoughtfully as he sits back down at the table, putting his breakfast down before him. “I mean it’s not like you twisted my arm, but I think that I was already in a bad place and when I saw you, so eager, so obviously in love with me, I didn’t want to let you down. Even if it cost me my soul.”   
“So you do care about me, just not in the romantic sense” Mary understands now.   
“Of course I do” John tells her. “I wouldn’t have stayed with you this long if I wasn’t worried about hurting you.”  
“I needed to be hurt” Mary realises. “I egged you into a relationship I knew you didn’t really want, and I stayed married to you even when I clearly saw it was causing you misery. So this is both our faults.”

They both sit in silence as they process this.   
“So I guess the best thing for everybody is that we divorced” Mary says softly.  
“I asked Sherlock. He thinks Mycroft will do us a quickie divorce, over within a couple of days, so no mess.”  
“I think that’s a good idea” Mary nods. “The sooner it’s over the better. Less pain for everybody that way.”  
“You’re a good person Mary” John smiles. “You’re taking this really well. Wait, that sounded like an odd compliment.”  
“Ha, I knew what you meant” Mary can’t help a smile. 

Mary notices her husband fiddling with the watch Sherlock gave him. No wedding ring, but he never forgets to wear that watch.  
Another thoughtful pause, “You’re a wonderful person Mary, you really are” John begins. “You’re sweet, kind, compassionate, empathic. You were there for me when I thought my best friend was dead, but I was never in love with you. I’d be happy if we had stayed just friends.”  
Mary nods, “thank you John. You were finally honest with yourself and with me. I’m no different then the string of other women you dated before Sherlock’s fake death. A good distraction to keep you from thinking about who you’re really in love with.”  
John nods several times, “you’re right. They were, and you were, all an attempt at running away from my feelings for him, Sherlock Holmes, it’ll always be him.”

Mary nods a few times, soaking this truth in. At least John is finally being truly honest with himself and with her. That’s a good start. “Look John, I need to say some things before we officially end this. Clear the air, get closure, you know?” Mary begins. John nods her in an invitation to go on. “Even if you weren’t a cheat and therefore a liar, you still wouldn’t be a very good husband, not to me anyway” Mary almost cries it’s so sad. “You’re so listless around me. You never want to go out with me, you don’t sleep in the same bed as me, you haven’t kissed me since the wedding. We may as well be room mates. That’s not how a husband and wife should act, like strangers forced to share a roof.”  
“I know” John is stroking his precious Sherlock-given watch now, as if it gives him courage, a habit Mary has noticed. “I’m sorry for being a terrible husband to you.”  
“I know” Mary says gently. “And I’m sorry I called Sherlock a liar. I know he wouldn’t make something like this up really. I was just angry and jealous, I guess.”  
“That’s okay, you were hurt” John says emphatically. “Listen, you can have full ownership of the house, the price of its sale, whatever. I don’t need it.”  
”Thanks” Mary nods, “its a good thing we didn’t get a puppy to argue custody over or anything.”  
“Yeah. I’ll leave tonight. I’d go now I have to go to work in five.”  
“That’s okay” Mary nods. “I don’t mind.”  
John nods, “well” he quickly wolfs down his breakfast like a dog starved, before getting up, his plate cleaned, “I gotta get to the clinic.”  
“Alright, I’ll call Mycroft and get the ball rolling on our divorce.”   
“Okay” John nods awkwardly.

“Until then” Mary takes off her wedding band and hands it to John, “we’re officially separated, okay? And if by this time tomorrow you and Sherlock are a couple, that’s fine by me, because you were never mine in the first place.”  
John leans down and gives her a friendly peck on the top of the head, “you’re a wonderful lady Mary, really. Thank you.”  
“You’re a lucky man John Watson” Mary tells him. “You have two people in your life who love you enough to let you go. Sherlock stood back and left you leave even though I’m sure he wanted you to stay, and I’m letting you return home to him even though _I_ want you to stay. You have two people who want you to be happy that badly, John. Never forget it.”   
John smiles at her for the first time in forever, “I’ll remember it from now on.” 

“Can I ask you one last question?” Mary wonders.  
“Anything. You deserve as much.”   
“is it because he’s an Omega?”  
John blinks at her, frowning, “what?” 

Mary has never before resented being an Alpha. It was something she took pride in, but now, here was Sherlock, one of the most beautiful Omegas Mary had ever seen, and…. Well, having a family is a dream of John’s Mary knows all too well, and although she believed him when he said before their wedding that not having children - natural children anyway - wasn’t an issue, this changes everything. Now Sherlock, of all people, is fulfilling John’s dream.   
“He’s giving you a child, I can’t” Mary shrugs.   
John looks at Mary with deep sympathy, “no Mary, I’ve loved Sherlock since the moment I saw him. It’s never been because he’s an Omega, that was the last thing on my mind. I often forgot he is one! He’s so unlike any other Omega I’ve ever met, he acts more like an Alpha then I do! Plus, this was an accidental pregnancy, and now that there is a baby coming of course Sherlock and I want it, but if we’d never had a child that wouldn’t have made any difference to me. He may as well be an Alpha like you, for all the difference it makes to me.”  
Mary gives a small smile, “thanks, that helps.”  
John gives her a smile back, “only the truth.”

“Well I guess you should head to work, hu?” Mary points out.  
“Right, work” John sighs. He rushes off, eager to start his new life.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

John has been at work for exactly ten minutes when he gets a text.  
 **New case! I’m off to Hinton’s Jewellery Shop, mass robbery, but how did they shut off all the security systems? That’s our problem! Meet you there? -SH.**  
Mass robbery? That’s so cool! John is about to grab his coat and go when -   
There’s a knock on the door, and one of the nurses poked his head in, “are you ready for your first patient Dr Watson?”  
Right, the patients. Begrudgingly, John sees the first patient, his foot tapping in frustration the whole time.   
After the first patient, who only takes fifteen minutes, a new text arrives; **guess who’s going live on the news! -SH**  
What?! John immediately turns the small TV in his office on to see a news report, “arriving at the scene now is the famous Sherlock Holmes” says the LIVE presenter, before the camera pans to show Sherlock himself climbing out one of his famous cabs. He smiles and waves at the camera as press cameras flash all around him. Without a word but with a swipe of his infamous coat, he heads into the jewellery shop with a proud strut.   
Off to give another outstanding performance, John is sure. 

The nurse pops his head around the door, “you ready again Doctor?”   
John’s eyes flick from the nurse to the LIVE broadcast on TV, back again and again.

Sherlock hasn’t been on the crime scene long, but he’s already sighing.  
He just can’t do this. He’s looking at all the clues laid out before him, and yet none of his usual deductions are coming to him. Nope, he’s got nothing. “I wonder where John is” he says to Lestrade, who’s hovering, “I text him.”  
“Well it’s 11am, so he’s probably at the clinic” Lestrade says. “You know, his real job.”  
“Pfft, being here complimenting me is his _real_ job” Sherlock scoffs, “besides” he adds in a serious tone. “John said he wanted to be back on cases with me.”  
“Well then I’m sure he’ll turn up” Lestrade tells. “Anyway, what are you seeing?”  
“I see” Sherlock says in a long way, examining the wall and floor in a stalling manner, nibbling his lip. “Nothing” he admits, sighing again.  
Lestrade is looking at him with deep pity, “what is up with you lately? I haven’t seen you deduce anything in two months now!”  
“You don’t need to tell me” Sherlock mumbles sadly, rubbing at his forehead tiredly, “I can’t think straight these days.”

“Well you know I’ll keep inviting you anyway” Lestrade says gently, “you’ll get your groove back, I know it.”  
“Thanks Lestrade, I appreciate that you keep asking me to come, even if I’ve been useless lately” Sherlock says genuinely.  
“You’re just having a rough patch, happens to us all” Lestrade says, patting Sherlock supportively on the shoulder. “Soon you’ll be wowing us once again.”  
Sherlock smiles at him kindly. It’s nice, knowing he has so many people who care about him. Not so long ago, he truly believed nobody cared about him, but now he sees how wrong he was. He has plenty of people who care about him, including the good inspector.

Sherlock is about to thank the little detective for his support when he feels a rush of nausea come over him. He has to bolt out of the jewellery shop with Lestrade calling and chasing after him in puzzlement. Lestrade catches up to him around the back of the shop, where Sherlock supports himself on a wall and vomits violently.  
“Jesus!” Lestrade startles, he calls to one of his officers, “get him some water please.”   
The officer rushes off as Lestrade pats Sherlock on the back helpfully. “What’s the matter with you?” He wonders in a worried tone.   
Sherlock straightens up and Lestrade offers him a tissue from his pocket.  
“Thanks” Sherlock wipes his mouth with the tissue. “And its a long story.”   
“Well let’s get you sat down” Lestrade says kindly, nurturing Sherlock in a fatherly manner.   
Sherlock nods and lets himself be sat down on a small wall as he fires off a quick text to John;  
 **Having morning sickness on the scene, just to update you -SH**

John is already running full throttle towards the jewellery shop having abandoned work when Sherlock’s custom ring tone plays. He’s just around the corner when he stops to read the text; **Having morning sickness on the scene, just to update you -SH**  
More motivated then ever, John bucks it around the corner to the buzzing crime scene.  
One of the officers is just jogging back into the shop, carrying a freshly brought water bottle. “Oh hi John” he greets.  
“Where’s Sherlock?” Pants John.   
“Out the back” says the officer, and John follows him through the jewellery shop and out to the back, where Sherlock is sat on a small wall, Lestrade sat at his side, rubbing his back.   
“John?” Sherlock blinks at the sight of the Doctor. “Okay, I text you literally a minute ago, even you can’t have moved that fast!”   
John chuckles and sits down on Sherlock’s other side, taking over rubbing Sherlock’s back from Lestrade. “I was already on my way over” he smiles softly, “how you feeling?”   
“A bit shaky but better now that I’ve actually thrown up” Sherlock tells as the officer John followed passes him that fresh water bottle. He cracks it open and sips from it.   
“You guys can go back to work if you like” John says, “I’ve got him now.”   
The officer leaves immediately, but Lestrade hovers, “you sure you’re alright now Sherlock? What you throwing up for anyway?”  
John blinks with the realisation that Lestrade doesn’t know about Sherlock’s condition; is he the only one Sherlock’s told?   
“I may as well tell you I suppose” Sherlock huffs, “everyone will have to know now anyway.” He looks up at Lestrade, “I’m pregnant.”

Lestrade’s eyes shrink inward in shock. He immediately leans down and checks Sherlock’s neck as the genius squirms. “Oh my god Sherlock, who did this to you?” Lestrade demands.  
Sherlock jerks a thumb towards John.  
Lestrade gives a possessive growl, standing instinctively over Sherlock, “oh, the married man”  
“I know” John throws his hands up in defeat, “I’m a bastard.”  
“Yes you are! What kind of Alpha not only cheats on his wife, but fucks and ditches Sherlock frigging Holmes?!!” Lestrade growls.  
“I know what I did without you telling me so Lestrade!” John snaps back.  
“Boys!” Sherlock steps in, “Lestrade, as much as I love being fought over and I appreciate you caring about me, if I want to smack John for being a moron, I can do it myself.”   
Lestrade lets out a long breath. “True” he says, taking a step back.  
“And John, don’t let people put all the blame of your shoulders. It took us both to have that one night stand, so don’t let people speak like I’m some poor helpless Omega who this just happened to, I was an equal part of this.”  
“Right you are Sherlock” John smiles, he jabs his thumb at Sherlock, “it was him too then, Lestrade.”  
The three of them share a shaky chuckle. 

“Anyway, off you go Lestrade, I’ll be alright in a minute” Sherlock waves him away.  
Lestrade does as he’s asked immediately, disappearing back into the picked clean jewellery shop.   
“He possessive growled at me” John points out, amazed, still rubbing at Sherlock’s back.   
“I know! Probably he cause he and I have sort of a father-son thing going. He sees a vulnerable Omega who he loves being misused, so of course he’s possessive” Sherlock shrugs. “Not that I need the help. Pregnant or not, I could still hand you your ass right not.”  
John can’t help beam, “I know” he says proudly.  
“Anyway” Sherlock cocks one eyebrow at John, “why aren’t you at work?”  
John clears his throat, “I sorta, kinda…quit?”  
Sherlock’s eyebrows shoot so high they reach his mop of hair, “you what?”  
“I quit!” John says, braver. “It was foolish of me to think that the criminals of London would only strike at night, so I’d be missing all our crimes during the day if I stayed there.”  
“Hu!” Sherlock laughs. “And I was just joking to Lestrade that being here complimenting you was your real job.”  
“Well it now!” laughs John, before becoming serious, “do you think I could get a proper salary? I know you probably don’t need my finical support for the baby, but I want to be able to offer it anyway.”  
“Sure” Sherlock smiles, “I can get you paid as on scene medical examiner, able to give the cause of death before a lengthy autopsy. I can convince them of that, I’m sure.”  
“Thanks Sherlock, you’re incredible” John twinkles.   
“See? Complimenting me, its your real job” grins Sherlock.  
John laughs happily.

Just then, Sherlock gags and leans over the side of the wall before up puking stomach acid.  
“Oh dear, its alright” John comforts, rubbing at Sherlock’s back, “I’m here for you.”  
“I hate you” Sherlock spits up a last bit of stomach acid.  
“I know” John soothes.  
“This is all your fault” Sherlock coughs.  
“I know.”  
“I _will_ murder you.”   
“I would welcome death at your hands.”  
Sherlock groans and straightens up. John rubs at his lower back lovingly as Sherlock swirls a mouthful of water around in his mouth and spits out like mouthwash before taking a hearty sip of the water. “I shall begin my murder plans then”   
John scoffs fondly and draws Sherlock close, allowing the skinny genius to lean his head on John’s strong shoulder. “I know it feels awful right now” John soothes, still rubbing little comforting circles on Sherlock’s lower back, “but it’s going to be alright Sherlock. I’m going to be here for you the whole time.”   
Sherlock smiles in a reassured manner, and John finds himself taking his delicate hand. Sherlock has lovely long fingers, the fingers of a musician. John gives Sherlock’s hand a gentle squeeze. He meant at first just to be reassuring, but five minutes later he finds their hands are still locked, holding onto each other like their the only real things in the world.   
John doesn’t take his hand back. He likes holding Sherlock’s. So warm and safe.   
Sherlock’s touch feels like home.   
“I know you will be” Sherlock says softly. 

A few minutes of quiet rest later, Sherlock gets up and stretches, “I’m alright now, lets head back in.”  
“Right beside you” John is on his feet and heading in with Sherlock. Everyone turns to give Sherlock an odd look. The uniformed officers are looking sympathetic whilst the other cheap-suit wearing detectives look smug.  
“What’s that look?” John whispers.  
“I told you, I haven’t been able to deduce a thing since you ran off with Mary” Sherlock shrugs, “some people pity me having lost my gifts, but the other detectives are loving it. Finally, I’m no longer better then them.”   
“I can imagine” John nods in understanding. “But you haven’t lost your gifts, and you’re still better then them” he says firmly, before squishing up so close to Sherlock that their shoulders are pressed together, just the way they used to stand all the time.   
“Oh stop it” Sherlock blushes teasingly.  
“You’re brilliant, you’re amazing” John presses on, knowing Sherlock too well. He knows all too well that Sherlock wants John to keep talking. “You have a true gift, show them who’s boss!”

Sherlock grins, and, with John never leaving his side, Sherlock re-circles the crime scene, John pouring compliments on him all the time even though Sherlock hasn’t really done anything yet, but this doesn’t stop John.  
“You’re incredible” John is saying as Sherlock examines a set of barely visible footprints on the vinyl floor. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”   
Sherlock grins up at him, and his rainbow eyes have come alive in a way that John hasn’t seen since Mary came into their lives. Suddenly, Sherlock comes back to himself, and he’s back on the hunt like a bloodhound. With a keen ear, he listens to the manager, goes through the employee list, looks at the profiles of all the employees, and proudly proclaims, “the thief’s had an inside man. Or rather, inside woman. Lara Mins, the night time guard, switched off all the security systems and let two male partners in crime in willingly.” Sherlock goes on to describe Lara’s accomplishes in great detail, and how they all escaped together. It was an amazing display with Sherlock being able to tell the who these three people are from footprints, marks on the wall, and the way the jewels were taken. He can tell everyone which jewels were taken by the rogue female guard and which by her two male companions. He stands there and describes exactly what happened as if he was there, dropping every jaw in the room whilst John stands glowing at his side. He can describe all three members of the robbery in deep detail from those famous tiny details nobody else can see. With his words, he can paint a better and clearer picture then any security camera. It’s incredible, it’s amazing, its awe inspiring, and John tells him so. 

Leaving the police to actually chase these suspects down, the two of them leave, laughing together.  
“I am back on the ball!” Sherlock beams, “all I needed was your compliments, apparently.”  
John chuckles warmly, “and being near you was all I needed.”  
“So defiantly no more drinking then?”  
“I promise!”  
“Or nightmares?”  
“Well, so long as I get to share your bed” John nudges him playfully.  
“Fine by me!” chuckles Sherlock.  
“Then I’m good” John smiles.  
“Now that” Sherlock says brightly, “is something I’m very happy to hear!”

John rides in the cab with Sherlock and makes sure he gets back to 221B safely before taking that same cab back to Mary’s house to get his things.  
“Hey” Mary greets awkwardly.  
“Hi” John says, equally awkward. “I’m just gonna grab my things and get out of your hair.”  
“Okay” Mary nods, “I called Mycroft, he says he’ll have us fully divorced in about three days.”  
“That’s Mycroft for you” John says, heading upstairs. Mary follows and watches silently as John packs.  
“I’ve been thinking a lot” Mary says softly, “I’m very angry at you for cheating, but not for leaving. I think that’s best for everyone.”  
“Still” John says, “I should have just said something about how unhappy I was instead of turning to cheating, and I’m sorry for that, and I don’t expect forgiveness.”  
“I don’t need to forgive you, because I understand you” Mary says, “its just hard for me to realise you never really loved me, not in the way I loved you.”  
“I know” John says again. “I wish I could say something comforting, but there’s nothing for me to say.”  
“So say nothing and just listen” Mary tells firmly. So John shuts up and and just packs silently, as Mary goes on. “Like I was saying earlier, I feel equally responsible. I knew you were unhappy, which made me unhappy, and I still stayed and didn’t say anything. I should have done better by us both.”   
“We all mistakes, Sherlock, you and I, we were all fools.”  
“Well” Mary lets out her breath, “you were a bad husband, but a good friend” Mary smiles, “can we stay friends?”  
“I’d actually really like that” John smiles, “because you were a great friend Mary.” He says to her, before asking sheepishly, “Sherlock too?” 

For a moment, Mary is too emotional to answer. “Although I want you to be happy, I really do, I’m rather angry with Sherlock at the moment. He’s stealing my husband, after all.”  
“It’s not Sherlock’s fault” John says firmly. “And he’s not stealing anything. He doesn’t even know I love him. Had he not gotten pregnant, he’d have taken our one-night-stand to his grave and never got involved in our marriage. Even now he is pregnant, he wouldn’t have gotten involved between us. We’d have been co-parents, but that’s it. I won’t allow you to see Sherlock as some home-wrecker, because he’s not.”  
Mary lets out a breath so long she shivers with it. She lets this all sink in for a moment. She knows John is right deep down, that Sherlock didn’t want any of this, but still, Mary blames him. “I’ll be civil with him” Mary decides, “and we can work our way up to friends. How about that?”  
“That’s fair enough” John agrees warmly, before picking up his bags. “I’m off then. Thank you Mary, you really are awesome, and someday, all of this will work out, I promise.”  
Mary half smiles, and although she’s still hurt - she knows John is right.   
This will be work out for the best in the end. She just knows it.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

“You are the Alpha” John Watson reminds himself in the downstairs hallway mirror. “He is the Omega. You are going straight up there and sweeping him off his feet” John nods several firm times before beginning strongly upstairs.  
Just then, Sherlock comes rushing down the stairs.  
“Ah, I see your back” Sherlock says, still putting on his scarf as he moves. “Can’t stop, I’m off on a case.”  
John shakes his head in exasperation. That’s typical Sherlock. Here’s John with his big plan of feet-sweeping-off and Sherlock naturally has plans of his own.  
“Well I’m coming, somebody has to protect your wreck-less ass” John insists, Sherlock laughs as John grins and says, “let me just grab my gun.”  
A minute later Sherlock is chased out of the flat by his loyal second half, both of them leaving all of John’s bags in the hallway as they jump into the cab.  
And just like that, its like history has reset. It was indeed like old time when, at that hour, John found himself seated beside Sherlock in an iconic London cab, John’s gun on his belt and the thrill of adventure in his heart. Beside him Sherlock’s brows were drawn down in thought, his lips compressed. John knew not what wild beast they were about to down down in the dark jungle of criminal London, but John was well assured that the master huntsman beside him was a force to be reckoned with.   
“Where are we off to?” John asks excitedly.  
“One of my old fighter friends has vanished. I just got an email from his partner, so we’re going to my old fighting ring to ask some questions.”  
“Awesome” John sparkles, “I can’t wait to see it! I love hearing your old stories.”  
“Happy to tell them” Sherlock says brightly.  
“Maybe afterwards we can go to Angelo’s.”  
Sherlock side-eyes John with a sparkle in his eye, “seeking to turn back time Doctor?”  
“Yes” John tells him, “and start again, only properly this time.”   
Sherlock smiles at him, “me too.”  
The warmth that flows between them seems to make the back seat of the cab itself glow, and it truly is like all the years that happened between their first night together and now slowly drain away. 

The underground fight club is everything John imagined it would be. It’s immensely crowded, sweaty, dark and damp. There’s a cheap, tatty boxing ring set up but the people fighting are doing anything but boxing. Their scrapping tooth and nail rather then doing anything coordinated. It’s brutal and bloody and John’s medical brain flinches as he watches real long-term injures take place while the crowd cheers. It’s horrific and yet fascinating. Like a train-wreck; John can’t look away.  
“Ah this brings back memories” Sherlock smiles nostalgically as they make their way down into the crowd. “They used to call me Take Um Home Holmes, cause I sent people right home to their Mummy’s!”  
John laughs, glowing proudly at Sherlock, “I bet you did.”  
John is all aglow. He loves hearing about Sherlock’s life before he got into it. He finds Sherlock as fascinating today as he did on their first day together, and he loves hearing about the parts of Sherlock’s life he didn’t get to see. He envies Mycroft in that way. He gets to have childhood memories of Sherlock, he gets to have seen Sherlock in his teen years - he got to hear Sherlock’s voice before his voice broke! So cute. John wishes he had known Sherlock just as long so he could have these memories, and since he doesn’t, he’ll take any memories Sherlock is willing to share to fill the void!

“I never lost” Sherlock reminisces fondly. “Not once. I took down men twice my size!”  
John shakes his head in amazement, “how did you even manage that?”  
“Deduction my dear John!” Sherlock twinkles. “I deduce people’s weaknesses and strike there, and suddenly their size or strength doesn’t matter because I can hit their pressure points. For example, let’s say I didn’t know you but wanted to take you down” his eyes scan John, “you’re shorter then me, but you’ve got twice the amount of muscle I do. I’m a toothpick compared to you. The way you stand shows me you’re a solider, so you have combat experience. So immediately I know I need to up my usual game. Weaknesses; your muscle makes you stocky. I’ve got the average of speed and agility then. Your carry your left shoulder stiffly, taken with that you’re a solider you were clearly injured, probably shot, so my first point of attack would be your shoulder. That would send shock waves of pain for you, pushing you backwards. I would take this opportunity to knee you in the gut. The wind would rush out of you. You’re a resilient guy, so you’d try to take a swing at me in a real fight. I’d duck under that, and by the time you realise I’d moved, you’d be getting a kick in the ear and be on the ground unconscious in under a minute” Sherlock recites all of this so quickly John has to listen very carefully to follow. “I’d have worked all that out within five seconds of seeing you, so you’d be down for the count in less then two minutes if you were a threat without you ever touching me.” Sherlock nods strongly. “And that’s how.”  
“Damn” John can’t help but admire. “Remind me never to piss you off. You are the human embodiment of brains vs brawn Sherlock, and brains win.”  
Sherlock laughs brightly.

“This was the first place I ever fought in. Back then, clubs like these didn’t allow Omegas to fight.”  
“They what?! That’s - that’s - Omegaist!” John cries, appalled.  
“I know!” Sherlock agrees. “There were female fight clubs that obviously allowed Omegas, but they wouldn’t let me in because I was a guy, and the male clubs wouldn’t let me in because being an Omega was too ‘feminine’ for them’.”  
“Bigots” John tuts.  
“Ha, right? So it was at this club that I marched straight up to the manager and said ‘show me your toughest guy, and I’ll take him down to show you what an Omega can do!’ and I did. Seven times. In a row.”  
“Damn” John whistles. “Who was their toughest guy?”  
“Take Um Home Holmes!” a huge man the size of a bear pushes his way through the crowd, grinning. “I haven’t seen you in years yet I’d known those curls and cheekbones of yours anywhere!”  
“Hey Hercules!” Sherlock beams, “John, meet Hercules, the best, toughest fighter in London.”  
‘Hercules’ - or whatever his real name is - deserves his name. He’s 6’7 so he towers over the 6’0 Sherlock. He’s twice as wide as Sherlock too, with arms like tree trunks and a chest half the width of the face of a bus. He’s got black stringy hair in a loose ponytail and is riddled with scars from previous fights.   
“Hey John! Nice to meet ya” Hercules extends a giant hand. John feels little compared to Sherlock, let alone before the huge man before him. In comparing hands, John’s hand looks like a child’s when compared to Sherlock’s; so John feels like a literal child as his whole hand vanishes into the hand shake.   
“A pleasure” John says, “so did Sherlock really take you down seven times?”  
“He did!” laughs Hercules. He looks to Sherlock, “speaking of which, fancy a round Holmes? I’m sick of hearing the story of how you beat me!”  
“I’d only beat you again” grins Sherlock.  
“Oh come on” Hercules invites, “just a quick scrap?”  
Sherlock looks tempted, “wellll…”

John clears his throat loudly and Sherlock cocks his eyebrows at the doctor like a silent “yes?”  
John darts his eyes protectively to Sherlock’s still flat little tum, and Sherlock sighs deeply.  
“Right” he says, looking to Hercules, “sorry Herc, I’d love to kick your ass again, but I’m currently in a rather delicate state.”  
Hercules understands immediately, “nooo!” he says in horror, “not the least Omega-ish person I know!”  
“Afraid so, blame John” Sherlock jerks his head towards John. “Bit of an accident.”  
“Best accident ever” John quickly insists, standing proudly close to Sherlock, tempted to wind a proud arm around his waist but resists.  
“Damn” Hercules whistles. “So what are you doing back here?”  
“Head Spin Henry went missing hasn’t been home in two days, have you seen him?”  
“Not since two days ago, where was he last seen?” frowns Hercules.   
“Here” Sherlock tells, “Herc, I need to you to help me find anyone who might have seen or talked to Henry that day. The slightest detail might lead me to him.”  
“Yeah sure, let me show you around” Hercules invites.  
“What shall I do to help?” John asks.   
“I dunno” Sherlock admits, “mingle? A lot of fighters are ex-soldiers too. Go make friends!”   
“Pffft” John rolls his eyes as Sherlock goes off.

Although hesitant at first, John soon finds that Sherlock was right as usual. He introduces himself and a few people even recognise him as the Dr John Watson who writes the Sherlock Holmes blog.  
“Although we’ve all be left dry for updates for three months!” someone says.  
“I know, I’m going to get back to it now though” John promises. “Trust me, I’ve missed it too.”  
Eventually John really does get chatting to ex-soldiers turned fighters and is having a grand time when someone wolf whistles.  
“Check out Lightening Nick and Take Um Home Holmes!” the same someone calls. “Looks like they’ve really made friends!”  
John’s head snaps around to see a tall blonde leaning against the wall across the room like some rap singer, leaning awfully close to Sherlock, who’s grinning and leaning equally close to him.  
John’s storming over before he even registers he’s asked his feet to move. 

Lightening Nick is having a merry chat when he looks up and sees a very angry looking solider type storming over towards him.  
“Um, new boyfriend Sherlock?” he frowns. “Cause that guy looks ready to kill me.”  
Sherlock looks to see John advancing towards them and can’t help but snicker, “he gets jealous, but he hasn’t asked me out, he claims he isn’t gay, but he stares at me like I’m a snack. You work that one out.”  
“Well” Lightening Nick says thoughtfully, “he clearly wants to ask you out Sherlock, he’s probably just worried you’ll say no. You forget how incredible you seem to us normal folk Holmes.”  
“He’s had a parade of girlfriends though.”  
“Probably only because he didn’t think you’d have him, cause let me tell you, that’s the face of a man in love” Lightening Nick tells, before grinning mischievously, “and I’ll prove it to you. I'm gonna ask you out."  
Sherlock's eyebrows shoot up, "Nick, you have a girlfriend."   
"He doesn't know that" Nick points out, "plus, it's just to prove a point. You'll see."   
John arrives in front of them, steaming like a kettle, "shouldn't we be investigating?" John demands.  
"I've finished investigating" Sherlock tells.  
"And since you are, would you like to go and have a lunch date with me?" Lightening Nick asks Sherlock.  
It's a wonder that John doesn't physically turn green with envy, because he does start vibrating. 

This is nothing new to Sherlock. He counted the number of texts of Irene sent him, so John acting like some possessive Alpha is nothing new to him. He's an Omega, John's an Alpha. Sherlock is used to people acting protective and possessive over him. Lestrade, Mycroft, kindly Alpha's on the street who step in to protect Sherlock from leering, drooling Alpha's who think think have a right to come on to any unClaimed Omega they see - point is, Sherlock's used to this behaviour and it doesn't prove a thing to him.  
So he decides to test Lightening Nick's theory that this is more then typical Alpha behaviour. He won't lie to John, but he can say a truth.  
"Well you are very cute" he says to Nick, in a tone that could be considered thoughtful, like he's thinking over the offer. This is also true; Lightening Nick is cute.  
Sherlock observes like a science experiment John's reaction, and it's a fascinating one. As soon as the compliment leaves Sherlock's mouth, all the anger and jealousy, all that typical Alpha possessiveness is gone in the blink of an eye, and it's replaced with the deepest, most painful look of pure turmoil Sherlock has ever seen on a man's face. Oh John's jaw is locked and his face is stone strong, but his eyes betray him. John is a soldier worthy of his title, he's strong, resilient and doesn't even shiver with nerves in the most dangerous situations, but his eyes always reflect how he truly feels. He's the kind of man who can be terrified within and calm without.  
But not with Sherlock. Sherlock is the only person John is ever vulnerable around. When he has nightmares he calls out for Sherlock, something he never did with Mary. He'd wake up screaming on reflex only and yet still refuse her comfort. John is the kind of man who would solider on for years in emotional agony and not reach out for help.  
But not with Sherlock. Sherlock sees right through him, as he sees through everyone, so John has given up trying to hide. 

Sherlock has never seen heart break in John's eyes, but he knows the emotion well enough in himself to recognise it in John's telling eyes.   
By even suggesting he might like   
someone else, Sherlock has broken this brave soldiers heart.   
Finally; he sees John true feelings.

Sherlock has thought about all of this in under thirty seconds, so he turns to Nick and says, "But not cute enough" before smiling at John and strutting away.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees relief wash over John, who bounces proudly to Sherlock's side.   
"So where's Head Spin Henry?" John asks brightly. Just like that, his mood has sprung right back around. Sherlock resists a smile. Who knew John was so easy to please!   
"Seems he's taken to gambling. He's fallen asleep in some casino and will still be there, too hooked or too ashamed to come home. Not a very interesting case, I only took it up because Henry was my fellow fighter. I guess he was my friend, but that was before I believed in friends."  
"I remember" John smiles, "you know what we call that? Character development."  
Sherlock sniggers as outside they head, Sherlock on his phone as he emails Henry's partner and tells them where find Henry. "There, case solved" Sherlock sparkles.  
"And how brilliantly you managed it too" John praises, as the two turn to look at each other.

John is going grey around the ears, and he's wrinkling already, but Sherlock hasn't aged much at all. His face has only gotten shaper and more mature, his curls darker, his skin tanned from the sunshine. If anything, Sherlock looks better. In his famous coat and wrapped under his trade mark blue scarf, it's impossible to see the little bit of weight his pregnancy has already put on him, so it's really like the clock has been turned back in that dark alleyway.  
"So Lightening Nick eh?" John prompts.  
"Yeah, he's good looking and everything, but not my type. You know what they say, all the nice girls like a solider."   
John's eyes spark with hope, "including my favourite Omega?"  
"Oh defiantly, don't tell anyone I said so, but I discovered my sexuality through military magazines" Sherlock winks. They giggle together.  
For a second, John looks like he might say something, then looks shyly away. Sherlock takes this time to reflect on what Lightening Nick was saying;   
_"He didn’t think you’d have him, cause let me tell you, that’s the face of a man in love."_

"Would you like to see my incredible psychic act? Cause I'm about to read your mind" Sherlock invites.  
John looks up in mind surprise and amusement, "that would indeed be a trick, even for you. Go on then."   
"You're madly, deeply in love with me" Sherlock states bluntly.  
John jolts backwards he's so horrified.  
"Have been since the day we met, which would definitely explain why you were hitting on me so hard in Angelo's."  
John blushes up to his ears.   
"But you think I don't love you back, so you've dated all those tedious girlfriends to try and get over me, but I'm just too irresistible."

John stops looking shyly at the floor, his head snapping up, "I think? Does that mean..?"  
"Yes John, my favourite little goldfish, I love you too. Have since you limped into my lab. I thought ‘damn, hot solider boy alert’.”  
John lights up like a firecracker, “oh Sherlock!” John suddenly scoops the lanky detective up and hoists him onto his waist. Sherlock is giggling as he’s placed softly against the wall, lifted up as John places a knee beneath him, propping the genius up against the wall like a romance movie “This is wonderful!” glows John. “To think of all the time I wasted thinking you didn’t want me.”  
“Well you best not waste any more time then” Sherlock invites, saucily.  
“How right you are” John nods, “Sherlock Holmes, will you do me the honour of being my boyfriend?”  
“Hmmmm” Sherlock pretends to be thoughtful, “I suppose, since I don’t have anything better to do, sure, why not?”  
John rolls his eyes in exasperation, but Sherlock is far too cute to resist, so he leans in and kisses Sherlock until they both can scarcely draw breath.

***** ***** ******* *********** ******** ***** ******* ***** ******** ***** ******

“Well” Sherlock says as they walk, firing off a text as he talks. “That is romantic!”  
After managing to peel themselves off each other, their almost at Angelo’s as promised. John is shaking his head fondly as they arrive inside.  
“I must say, I imagined my confession going a lot more romantically. I imagined a lovely long speech, but you confessed for me.”  
“Well somebody had to!” Sherlock grins, as they sit down at their original table beside the window. “I do have questions though” he gives John a look, “Mr Not Gay” Sherlock grins at him.  
“I was in deep denial” John agrees with a chuckle. “I still don’t know what I label as. Bisexual or demisexual or some kind of Sherlock-Holmes-sexual, all I know is I do still find women attractive, and the only man I find attractive is you, but the only person I want is you.”  
“I can see how the term ‘gay’ might have been more confusing then helpful” Sherlock says fondly.

“Heyo Sherlock!” Angelo appears, coming over, “haven’t seen you in a while.”  
“Hello Angelo” smiles Sherlock.  
“Hi Angelo” John is shining like a star, “we’re gonna need a candle. I’m his date.”  
“Darling, am I supposed to be surprised? We all knew this” Angelo grins, before bringing them over a candle, “there ya go, more romantic.”  
“Perfect for our date” if John gets any prouder, he may pop.  
Sherlock is making the glow of pregnancy a reality, twinkling as he watches it all.

“Our first date” John says happily, picking up the menu, “and what does the love of my life fancy?”  
“Pfft” Sherlock blushes, focusing on his own menu, “are you going to be unleashing seven years of pining like that all the time now?”  
“Yes, yes I do, so you better get used to it” John says happily. “And tonight’s on me. I plan to be a gentleman.”  
“Ooh I?” Sherlock’s eyes shine,   
“Oh yes” John smiles at him warmly, “you deserve it. You totally changed my world you know. Every Omega I’d ever met before you was so submissive, especially around me, and I hated that. I hated watching people shrink into themselves simply because I was an Alpha. Not you. You wore the trousers and practically put me in a skirt immediately! A street brawler, a multiple kidnappings survivor, an all round badass who was anything but submissive. You were bossing me around within a minute! And I loved you for it. I loved that you didn’t let what you were, or what anyone else was, effect you. It’s one of the many reasons I love you.”  
Sherlock has the prettiest smile, and John would do almost anything to see it peer across his handsome face. “And I loved you for not being the typical Alpha. Most Alpha’s are possessive and demanding. They expect their Omegas to submit to them, and get pissy as if it insults their manhood if they don’t. You were always gentle as a lamb.”  
“Hmm, maybe too gentle” John considers. “People always say that I’m the softest, sappiest Alpha they’ve ever met. They call me sheepish!”   
“Is that a bad thing?” Sherlock asks. “People call me a dominate Omega, or a demanding Omega. Doesn’t mean its a bad thing. Nobody says we have to fit into our stereotypical boxes.”  
“I guess you’re right” John smiles, as Angelo arrives back at the table. John orders and Sherlock surprises everyone by actually ordering food to match! And not just his usual salad and water either, but actual spaghetti and meatballs.

“It’s bizarre, seeing you eat” John says twenty minutes later, watching Sherlock politely (and with excellent table manners, he might add) scoop the spaghetti into his mouth. “Usually you survive off air and solving mysteries.”  
Sherlock laughs, covering his mouth so he can answer mid-chew, “the foods not for me, its for the baby. I’m still surviving off air and solving mysteries.”  
John grins, “well that’s okay then!”  
They munch happily but quietly for a while, just gazing at each other.  
“Are you really mine now?” John asks, in disbelief. “Do I really get to be with someone as gorgeous as you?”  
“Back at you cutie, and yes you do” Sherlock shines, before peering curiously at John, “I do have questions though. Could you tell me why you had all those girlfriends? I didn’t say so at the time but…” he looks down at the table, all his joy draining away. “It really hurt me, seeing you date woman after woman like that.”  
“I can only imagine” John says softly, reaching across the table and taking hold of Sherlock’s hand, “I was heart broken when you called Lightening Nick cute, let alone watch you go on date after date and…” John burns with shame, “oh God, I made you best man at my wedding! How could you stand by and watch me get married?”  
“It broke my heart” Sherlock tells softly, “again and again. Every date, every girlfriend, and having to act as your best man, giving that speech, writing you a waltz, it damn near killed me.”  
John feels so horribly guilty, “you could of said no, you didn’t have to be my best man.”  
“It was the first time I was ever someone’s best friend, plus I’d been pretty absent in your life for two years, I wanted to make up. I didn’t feel like saying no was an option.”  
John strokes Sherlock’s hand with his thumb as Sherlock talks. “However did you manage? I felt so awful just seeing you give one compliment to someone else. How on Earth did you actually survive my wedding, seriously?”  
Sherlock pauses for a long moment, “I wanted to get high immediately, and I wanted to stay high pretty permanently. I wanted to drown my mind in drugs until I couldn’t remember the pain I was in.”

John can’t help but startle, “but the baby!”  
“I know, I know” Sherlock soothes, “but I didn’t know I was pregnant for that first month, so that’s a whole four weeks I could of spent doing irreversible harm to myself and our baby.”  
“But you didn’t, right?” John asks, worriedly.  
“No” Sherlock tells, “you can thank Mycroft for that. I left your wedding and immediately tried to get cash out to buy drugs with, but found my bank account frozen.”  
“Mycroft froze your bank account?” John just can’t fight a grin.  
“He knows me well” Sherlock shrugs. “He paid everything for me, the rent, the bills, even ordered my shopping online, no more then I needed, so I couldn’t sell the extra for cash. He knew we drug addicts can get creative like that. He forced me to stay clean.”  
“I owe your brother a big thank you” John coos genuinely, “I’m sorry I hurt you Sherlock. I broke your heart over and over again and yet you never said a word. You always kept yourself together. You never showed a shred of jealousy. You were a better man then me.”  
“Well I’m a lot stronger then I’m given credit for. Your writings do bolster my intelligence beautifully, but never has a word been written about my ability to endure the things I have. Put that in your blog.”  
“I will now” John promises, “if it makes you feel better, I never felt much of anything besides physical attraction to those women. I couldn’t even remember their names most of the time, remember?”  
Sherlock chuckles, “oh yeah, I remember.”  
“All of them, Mary included, was a shallow attempt to move on from you, just like you said. Unsurprisingly, they all failed.”  
Sherlock nods, “what about the ‘not gay’ stuff? Was it just cause the label was confusing like I said too?”  
“That” John nods, “and I was suffering with a bit of internalised homophobia, not for anybody else, just myself. It was strange. It was okay for everybody else to be gay or LGBT or anything else in between, but not for me.”  
“Why not?” Sherlock rightfully wonders.

“Well” John struggles, gulping, “you know I struggle with expressing myself, but…my parents. Harry. She’s gay, they didn’t like that. They…talked a lot, about, you know, it being disgusting or unacceptable for their children to be gay. The.…they kicked Harry out for it. They totally forced her out of our lives, and they’d always make sure I knew that I was the good child, praising me because I was going to the right thing in marrying a woman, saying how proud of me they were for being ‘normal’….”he swallows.  
Sherlock has stopped eating and is staring at John in silent horror.  
“And you, well you were the first guy I’d ever been attracted to and I just kept hearing their voices and what they’d say. So I was struggling with that a lot.”  
“So” Sherlock calmly begins listing on his fingers, “you thought I’d never have you, there’s one reason. You were confused about your sexuality, that’s two, and three you had bastard parents who taught you that it was wrong to be anything but straight.”  
“Pretty much” nods John, “and I couldn’t risk asking you out, because so long as I didn’t I could keep a tiny scrap of hope that us being together might be a possibility. Not enough of a scrap to actually ask you, because 98 percent of me believed you’d say no, but if I didn’t ask you, then I didn’t have to confirm my worst fear, and as long as I didn’t confirm it, then it wasn’t completely true? I dunno.”  
“Hope but not enough hope to actually ask the question, that’s four” Sherlock counts. “That’s a lot of reasons for not asking me out.”  
“It was a complicated time” John confirms, “your dinners getting cold.”  
“So is yours” Sherlock points out.

So they chew for a few minutes, before Sherlock chimes, “I finally understand. To think, I thought you didn’t want me in a romantic capacity. I saw you drooling over me, and I knew I was your best friend, but being my boyfriend? I thought that would never be.”  
John blushes, “you noticed me admiring you?”  
“John, you licked your lips at me. Repeatedly. You expected me not to notice that? I have been told I have a gift for observation.”  
“But you thought I was only interested in you sexually?”  
“Yep.”  
“Well, that too” John smiles, “but so, so much more.”  
“Well I know that now” Sherlock shines. A pause, “I may have wrongly thought you weren’t interested in me romantically, but at least I noticed you were attracted to me, but are seriously you telling me you didn’t realise at all that I liked you?”  
“Nope, totally oblivious” John admits with a chuckle.  
“See that’s your trouble John. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, ‘you see, but you do not observe’.”  
John rolls his eyes with a face that says ‘getting real tired of your shit, Holmes’, but can’t help smiling as well!  
Finally, he feels everything is the way it should be.  
The way it _always_ should have been.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Over the next two weeks, John is reborn, and Sherlock couldn’t be happier to see it. They sleep in the same bed like they’ve been doing it for years. They dash about on an exciting case together and John blogs all about it. John doesn’t take so much of as a sip of beer or have a single bad dream.  
It’s like how things used to be, only better! Cause now Sherlock gets to fulfil his dream of kissing John as often as he wants, and the same thing on John’s side.

After the first three days, John’s divorce is finalised and the Doctor is thrilled. Thanks to Mycroft’s speedy service, it’s as if the whole thing never happened. John actually suggests they frame the completed divorce papers! This makes Sherlock laugh.  
Being with Sherlock officially seems to help John come out of his shell more. He’s still not sure what his sexuality is, but he’s accepted he’s certainly not straight, but today marks a grand day in history.  
“I’m off for a haircut” he says to Sherlock today, kissing the curly-topped man’s head, “and you are going to be surprised!”  
“That would indeed be an achievement” Sherlock teases.  
“You’ll see!” John grins.

And see he does! When John comes back, Sherlock is mid chemical experiment. He’s taken all the precautions to make said chemical experiences pregnancy-safe; he’s set up by the open window, making sure all his chemicals are positioned in such a way that the smell of them is blown outside, and is wearing a mask so he doesn’t breathe anything harmful in. Plus the rubber gloves and lab goggles. He feels like a real idiot, but he knows John will be pleased!  
When the door clicks open, Sherlock turns around and gets a right sight! John has had a complete makeover. His sandy coloured hair (already greying around the ears) is swept back and to the left, all neat and sleeked. His usual cheery, cuddly-bear jumper has been switched out by a button-up blue and grey checked shirt and deep navy jacket. His jeans are tighter, and he’s even wearing one of those elastic, plastic Pride bracelets!  
“Ta-da!” John poses.  
Sherlock is staring, his mouth watering. “I think one of my ovaries just exploded.”  
John laughs brightly, “I look good then?” he asks, placing his hands upon Sherlock’s hips.   
“You look fantastic” Sherlock glows, “if you looked like this when we first met, I wouldn’t have been able to contain myself. Aw look, you’ve gone a little extra grey around the ears!”  
“That’s the stress of not being around you enough for the last two years and four months” John tells, rocking Sherlock slowly two and fro. “We all know I’m incomplete without you.”  
“Back at you cutie” Sherlock smiles, before they happily kiss again.

The Skype ‘incoming call’ jingle begins on the laptop. “That’ll be Mummy” Sherlock says, going over to it, “I have life changing news to give her!”  
“Oooh I wanna help!” John says, standing at Sherlock’s side as he sits down at the kitchen table (the living room table is covered in chemicals) and answers the call.  
“Hi Mummy” Sherlock greets as the image of the two elderly Holmes, sat side by side, fills the screen.  
“Sherlock!” Mummy Holmes beams. “You don’t text me enough.”  
“Yes Mummy” Sherlock rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I have big news for you.”  
“Hang on, let me call your brother in here first” Mummy Holmes says, and, after much texting, Mycroft is promoted to join the call.  
“What?” frowns the sour Holmes brother. “I do have a country to run.”  
“Your brother has big news Mikey! Behave!” Mummy Holmes tuts.  
“Oh I’m sure” Mycroft looks bored.

“It is big news!” Sherlock is says, determined. He looks to John beside him and smiles lovingly, “John and I are finally a couple.”  
“Finally” says Mr Holmes, who looks remarkably like John if he put his picture in one of those ‘age me 50 years’ programs. Seriously, the resemblance is spooky.  
"About time" agrees Mycroft.   
“Nice to meet see you, future son!” Mummy Holmes grins at John, who blushes, but is secretly pleased! “It’s really about time! All he talks about is you!”  
“Mummmmyyy!” Sherlock blushes.  
“I’m no different!” John chuckles, “all I do when I’m not with him is talk about him, to the point I had to put it all in a blog.”  
“A blog that is the bane of my life” Mycroft groans, “if I had a pound for every time someone said ‘Holmes, like Sherlock Holmes?!’ to me these days, I’d be rich.”  
“Mycroft” Sherlock says, monotone, “you are rich. You’re literally a billionaire.”  
“Well then I’d be a _trillionaire_ ” Mycroft nods, firmly.  
John chuckles softly. He loves this family! 

“However, there is a second announcement” Sherlock pipes up.  
The Holmes parents give each other a curious look. It seems they were somewhat expecting the first announcement, but not a second one.  
“I’m pregnant” Sherlock admits flatly. “You’re going to be grandparents in September.”  
“Ah, so that’s what you’ve decided to do about it” Mycroft nods, who clearly, from John’s deductions, knew about the pregnancy but hadn’t been updated on Sherlock’s decision on what he was going to do about it.  
“Yes, we’re keeping our baby” John says warmly, squeezing Sherlock’s hand, beaming with pride.  
“Lovely” Mycroft says, like he doesn’t much care.

Meanwhile, the Holmes parents are communicating silently in nothing but glances.  
“Okay” Mr Holmes says slowly, “I know your Mom and I don’t have the gifts we somehow managed to give you and your brother Sherlock, but even our math skills aren’t that rusty. That’s only six months, and John was still married two and a half months ago.”  
“Yes” Sherlock says, simply. “John and I slept together the night before his wedding” Sherlock just states point blank. A shape knife cuts clean.  
There’s a moment of pure shock, and then Mummy Holmes just calmly says, “Ok Sherlock” Mummy Holmes says, more sad then mad. “Well, so long as you’re alright dear.”  
“Yes, that’s the important thing” Mr Holmes quickly agrees. “Plus, were going to be grandparents!”  
Mummy Holmes squeals excitedly, “yes, that’s true! Oh how wonderful! Secretly, every parent hopes they’ll someday be grandparents.”   
“You two always said you didn’t care about becoming grandparents” Mycroft points out.  
“Well yes, hence the secretly part” Mr Holmes grins.  
John can’t help laughing.  
He finally feels like he’s part of a family again. One far better then his own too!

After a good long natter, Mycroft grows claims he needs to get back to work and leaves the Skype call. He’s followed shortly by Mr Holmes, who gets up from his elderly wife’s side and shuffles away, off to settle down with a newspaper, so its just Mummy Holmes and the new couple left.  
“Sherlock pet, I was wondering if I could have a quick word with John?” Mummy Holmes asks.  
“If you’re gonna give him the ‘you better look after Sherlock’ talk, Mycroft already covered that seven years ago” Sherlock grins, but he gets up, grabs his violin and heads into the bedroom all the same.  
John sits up a little straighter, “are you gonna give me the talk?” he asks.  
“Yes” Mummy Holmes smiles, “Sherlock is my baby, you better be good to him! Take good care of him, do you promise?”   
John smiles at this warm woman with her cosy figure and lovely smile and feels a deep connection with her already, “I promise” he vows, “because there’s nothing I want to do more then take care the world’s best care of him.”  
Mummy Holmes smiles, “I know it.” She leans in, checking Sherlock isn’t lurking in the background, “is he distracted?”  
Sherlock’s beautiful violin playing kicks up and John grins, “yep.”  
“Then who wants to see baby pictures!?” Mummy Holmes beams excitedly.  
“Meeee!” John beams, as Mummy Holmes pops away and returns with a photo book.

“Now this is little baby Mycroft” Mrs Holmes glows, holding up the book to the screen so John can see a picture a tubby, serious looking baby, sat on a carpet in nothing but a nappy, covered in cake. Looking displeased at the empty plate, which has nothing but cake crumbs left on it, sat in front of him. He’s a plump, pink and looks like a little cake monster!  
“Big lover of cake right from the start was my Mikey” coos Mummy Holmes.   
John roars with laughter, “did you tell Sherlock that?”  
“Regularly. He loves hearing it!” Grins Mummy Holmes. She flops a page, showing a young, beaming Mummy Holmes, holding a very wrinkly, upset little baby in a hospital bed, “and this is the day Mycroft was born. He was a baby who loved screaming. He was over ten pounds! That was a fun delivery.”   
John laughs again! “Oh I’ll bet. How much did Sherlock weigh? I’ll bet he was a skinny little thing, just like today.” John is ever so curious now!

“Oh he surprised us! Everyone was so worried, but he was one pound twelve ounces, they told me that was very good for a premee.”   
It’s like a mirror being broken. John’s good mood shatters and he feels like his world crumbles as Mummy Holmes flips the page and holds up a picture of a tiny, tiny brown curly haired baby in a incubator. All tubed up, white as a sheet, all his veins visible, his skin so thin his tiny organs are almost visible.   
“Sherlock was premature” John whispers the obvious.

“Yep, he came at 25 weeks, the day Mycroft’s seventh birthday. I told him Sherlock was his late birthday present.” She gives a brief chuckle, “I think he still takes that very seriously!”  
John swallows, “Sherlock never told me he was premature.”  
“Oh don’t take that personally dear. He deletes it from his hard drive every time I tell him this story. Calls it irrelevant information. Which I suppose it is, considering he’s healthy now.”  
“Yeah, sounds like him” John says, but he’s looking worriedly away.   
“What’s the matter pet? What difference does it make?” Mummy Holmes frowns.  
“Well” John swallows, before calling over the sound of Sherlock’s playing, “Sherlock! Come here gorgeous.”   
The music stops and Sherlock comes out of the bedroom, violin still in hand, “what?” he asks.  
Mummy Holmes is frowning too, watching through the screen.  
“Come sit lovely, I may as well tell you both at once” John says.

His expression is so grave and his tone so serious that Sherlock carefully puts his violin down and sits down beside John, looking at him with awaiting eyes.  
“You were premature, firstly. You came at 25 weeks” John tells him.  
Sherlock seems genuinely surprised, like a man hearing this for the first time, “was I?” he frowns at his Mummy.  
“Yes dear, you delete it every time I tell you about it” Mummy Holmes tells softly. “Irrelevant, you call it.”  
“Well it is, what’s it got to do with anything?” Sherlock asks, looking to John. “I’m fine now.”  
“Yes you are” John says, taking hold of his hand, “but being premature tends to have a…genetic factor.”  
Mummy Holmes looks horrified, as does her son. “Are you saying that because he was premature your baby has a higher chance of coming too early?” Mummy Holmes asks worriedly.  
“The risk does increase, yes” John tells, in his well practised doctor-giving-patient-bad-news voice, gentle yet serious, understanding yet grave. “It’s not like just because you came early our baby defiantly will Sherlock, but the chances do go up so its just something we’d have to be extra careful, and a little more vigilante about, is all.”  
Sherlock’s rainbow eyes are downcast, darting with erratic thoughts, fear dancing across his pupils like shadows. “Hey” John draws the beautiful brunette close, “I know, I’m scared too, but I am going to get you the best care in the world. There are far more options today then in your mothers day, we can get you some medications that will help prevent it, we’re gonna make sure your stress is minimum, healthy meals, lots of rest, the works. You’ll see, you _will_ carry this baby to full term, I'm sure of it."  
Sherlock manages a quick smile, and "Hms", flopping against John, allowing himself to be soothed as John strokes his hair.

“John’s right dear, everything will be okay, no matter what” Mummy Holmes tells softly, “even if the worst happens and your baby comes early, we’ll ensure they have nothing but the best premature care in the world, and if you think we’d offer any less, you’re dreaming dear.”  
Sherlock manages a smile, “you’re right. I know I’ve got the world’s best support system around me.”   
“Plus you grew up healthy dear, you beat all the odds” Mummy Holmes tells, “when you were born, the chances of a 25 week old baby surviving was only 40%.”  
“Now it’s 60%” John chips in brightly, “and when you were born, you’d had only about an 8% chance of growing up totally healthy the way you have. Today, that’s 55%. For comparison, full term babies have a 63% of being totally healthy in adulthood.”  
“Wow” Sherlock can’t help admiring. He smiles, “its a modern world, eh?”  
“It sure is” John strokes his Sherlock lovingly, “you beat 8% odds Sherlock, you were a miracle worker from day one! You’re gonna shove all statics and carry this baby full term out of pure spite knowing you!”  
Sherlock chuckles, much cheered up now, “probably!”  
Mummy Holmes has brightened too, “I know you will baby. Well, I’ll let you process this news between you. Do you want me to pass the news onto Daddy and Mycroft?”  
Sherlock considers for a moment, then sits up straight, “yes please, but you know, just keep it relaxed. It’s a risk we all should be aware of, but I don’t want everyone super worried about me, just…aware.”  
“Got it” Mummy Holmes winks. “Don’t worry baby, everything’s gonna be fine.”  
Sherlock gives her a smile, bids her goodbye, and closes down the laptop. 

Sherlock's brave smile fades the second his mother is gone and he curls into John, burying his head into the crook of John's neck, going quiet.  
“You okay gorgeous?” John asks, stroking his fingers through Sherlock’s hair.   
“I think so” Sherlock says thoughtfully, “I’m worried, obviously, but…” he sits up, taking a deep steadying breath. “Being worried about it is only going to increase the chances its going to happen, right?”  
“Well, yeah” John confirms, “you need to be as stress free as humanly possibly.”  
“Then, like I said to Mummy, lets all be aware of it, but I don’t want anyone, including me, worrying themselves silly on a ‘maybe’.”  
John kisses him happily, “you’re so wise. Tell you what, let’s see if we can get you into the doctors today and get you a prescription on medication that will help lower those chances.”  
“Let’s” Sherlock nods.

As luck would have it, the local clinic had an opening later that same afternoon and the two head their hand in hand. Sherlock explains his newly re-discovered family history and the doctor agrees with John that this does higher his risk of dangerously early delivery, and recommends medications to help.  
“But first, would you like to have your twelve week scan?” she, the doctor, smiles.  
The two Dad’s most defiantly would!  
“Here we go!” smiles the doctor brightly, looking as excited as the two Dad’s feel as she sets up the ultra sound machine.  
“We’re gonna see our baby!” Sherlock is practically bouncing, sat up on the examination table. “Their first picture!”  
“I know!” John practically squees. The doctor gives them a look. “You gotta lie down and attempt to keep still though gorgeous” John grins.  
“Awww” Sherlock pouts, but he lies obediently down and keeps still as his lovely shirt is rolled up and the scanner is put on his little belly.  
Sherlock is showing already. He’s got the slightest little bump, sticking out like a sore thumb against his otherwise stick thin abdomen. The fact that Sherlock’s belly is already so visible - at least compared to other mothers and indeed Omega fathers at his early stage - doesn’t totally shock John. Sherlock is a stick thin beanpole, so even the slightest change would look big on him, but now, looking at Sherlock’s belly, John’s medical training is seeing something more. The other possibility, his medical training tells him, is that -   
He realises the possibility a second before the ultrasound screen lights up and the doctor beams, “congratulations! You’re carrying _twins!_ ”   
The other possibility is that Sherlock is carrying multiples.

Sherlock has to restrain himself from snapping upright, but his head leaps up, “what?!”  
Then the famous genius sees for himself.  
The shadows of two tiny babies, huddles together inside of him, shown in an amazing visual on the screen before them. The doctor pushes a button on the rolling-scanner and the sound of two strong, quick, strong little heartbeats fill the room.  
Two babies, two little lives, cuddling each other inside of the famous genius. Through the screen, John can actually see his future children twitch softly side by side.  
He feels his eyes getting hot.

“Are you gonna cry?” Sherlock asks, looking at with a teasing grin.  
“Yes, and so are you!” John bats back, seeing Sherlock’s own shining eyes.  
“Am not!” Sherlock sniffs.  
“It’s okay, most people cry” the doctor encourages gently.  
Her gentle words crack John’s fragile self-containment. He lets a tear roll as he climbs onto the examination table without shame, “oh Sherlock.”  
Sherlock sits up and the two hug tightly. The doctor steps back so she’s not invading their personal moment as the two men snuggle deeply into each other.

"Hang on, hang on, twins tend to come early, don't they?" Sherlock asks, suddenly leaning away from John and nibbling his lip worriedly.  
"Twins usually come at 36 weeks, so four weeks early, but we consider that full term for twins and most almost all twins go straight home when their born unless their having trouble eating" the doctor tells, "So don't worry, carrying twins won't raise your chances of a dangerously early delivery."  
"Oh good" Sherlock sighs in relief.  
"Don't worry Sherlock" John strokes those luscious curls of the detectives, "I'm going to take such good care of you and our twins."  
"I know you will" Sherlock snuggles his forehead into John's shoulder.   
John kisses the top of that lovely head softly, "don't you worry about a thing love, I've got you."

"Okay" Sherlock says, leading the way back into the flat, carrying the bag from the chemist and popping it on the table "let's see what we've got here."  
Sherlock throws off his coat and scarf onto the sofa as he opens the bag like a Christmas present and pulling out the bottle from it's box. It's a tall, slender bottle filled with yellowish liquid. “Va’la!” he reads the label, “strengthens, nourishes pregnancy, lowers the risk of early delivery and miscarriage, and provides your growing baby will all it needs to grow and develop.” Sherlock gives an impressed nod, “nice. Shall I take my first shot now do you think?”  
“Yeah, and one before bed, and from then on three injections a day” John nods.  
“Sweet” Sherlock nods, rolling up his shirt and folding it so it’ll stay up on his own.  
“Want a hand?” John offers.  
“Nah, I’m very experienced with shooting myself full of drugs” Sherlock grins.  
“A ha, a ha” John laughs sarcastically, “are those ex-heroin addict jokes gonna keep coming?”  
“Yes” Sherlock shines, before getting the needle out of its separate box, putting it through the lip of the bottle and drawing the medication into the needle like an experienced diabetic. He swabs his left side, just above his hip, pinches his skin and injects himself without flinching, which even the war vetted Doctor admires! “There” Sherlock smiles, withdrawing the empty needle, “all done.”  
“Very brave” John compliments, taking the needle, “at least let me be on sterling duty.”  
“Yes doctor” Sherlock salutes as John chuckles and heads to the bathroom.

After sterling the needle and putting Sherlock’s new medication away in the lockable cabinet, John returns and pours them orange juice in whiskey glasses.  
“Celebratory drinks!” John grins, handing Sherlock one. “We can pretend its whiskey.”  
“My favourite kind of whiskey, the pretend kind” Sherlock chuckles.  
Neither of them can get the smiles of their faces as they flop into their ironic positions in front of the fireplace. They both sink happily down into their chairs, gazing at each other.  
“I still can’t believe it” John says dreamily, “twins.”  
“Twins” Sherlock says, equally dreamily, his eyes full of hope, “no wonder my trousers have started feeling tight already.”   
“I know! You’ve got the cutest little belly already” John admires him, “you look beautiful Sherlock.”  
Sherlock flushes contently, “jeez thanks, so do you.”  
John puts down his glass, sits up and opens his arms, “come here you.”  
Sherlock abandons his own glass and arm chair and climbs contently into John’s lap like a kitten. John wraps proud arms around his Sherlock. “You know, anything you want, anything you need, I’m here, for all _three_ of you” he smiles down at Sherlock’s tum.  
“AKA; I’ve got you whipped?”  
“Oh, severely, but then again, you always did. I crossed London just so I could get your phone for you. Which was just out of your reach.”  
Sherlock gives his Grinch-style massive grin where his whole face wrinkles with the smile, “and now I’ve got you _three times_ as whipped. After all, I’m literally carrying your whole family about.”  
“I’m doomed, aren’t I?”  
“Oh yeah.”  
John grins. He couldn’t be happier to be so severely doomed!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Mary has missed John and he’s only been gone three weeks. She loved being a part of John’s life, he was her breath of fresh air. She won’t even think about what her life was like before him, but he changed everything for her, to say the least. Before, her life was an insane mess. With John, she found peace and normality. True, their marriage had sucked, but before they started dating, back when they were just friends, those were the golden times, and Mary misses them.  
She also knows that if she wants them back, she’s gonna have to get over a pretty significant hurtle - her anger at Sherlock.  
Time to let go. 

Mary decides the most healthy way to do this is to go and speak to Sherlock directly. To air out her feelings and let go of them. She doesn’t plan to storm over and have a yelling match with a pregnant Omega, she’s thinking more open chat then angry confrontation.  
She’s a daily reader of John’s blog, so she happens to know John’s headed out for a late afternoon pint with Mike Stamford, the man who brought Sherlock and John together. Mary decides this is the perfect time to go and see Sherlock; when the two of them can be alone. They can’t really talk about John if John’s there!  
So Mary watches the flat until she sees John hop in a cab and leave, then walks over, ringing the bell. Mrs Hudson greets her warmly and lets her in. All the way up the stairs, the sweet playing of Sherlock’s violin keep Mary company.  
She knocks on the door to the flat and the music stops. Sherlock Holmes, looking as stunning as ever, pulls the door open.  
“Oh” he says, clearly a little surprised.  
“Hi” Mary greets, suddenly feeling a bit shy, “I know things are weird right now, so…can we make them un-weird?”  
Sherlock’s face melts into a grateful smile, “sure, come on in.” As they settle into the armchairs, Sherlock goes on, “I know there’s nothing John would like more then for the two of us to be friends.”  
“Exactly, I know it would make him so happy for the three of us to get along.”  
“Glad we both have his best interest at heart” Sherlock says pleasantly.  
“I am too” Mary agrees, smiling now, feeling like some of the tension is already gone. Already she’s found something in common with Sherlock; they both love John, and want the best for him. On that, they can build. 

Mary can’t help a grin, “look how round you are!”  
For an Omega who’s only thirteen weeks pregnant, Sherlock’s little baby bump is surprisingly well rounded and pronounced under his powder blue shirt.Without his usual blazer to help cover up his otherwise tiny frame, he looks even more noticeably pregnant.  
“I know” Sherlock chuckles fondly, giving his belly a proud stroke, “here’s the reason John’s soon going to announce on his blog anyway; it’s twins!”  
“Oh!” Mary knows her eyes pop as big as saucers. “Oh!” she says again.  
“Right?!” laughs Sherlock. “It had to happen to me, eh?”  
“Well you look very cute pregnant” Mary smiles, before she lets herself still, “can I be mad at you for a while?”  
“Sounds healthy” Sherlock nods. “Go on then.”  
“You’re a home wrecking hussie” Mary says bluntly.  
“Harsh yet true.”  
Mary smirks quickly, but comes over serious again soon, “I know you didn’t ask to get pregnant or for John to come running back to you, I get that, but you did sleep with an engaged man. That’s pretty slutty.”  
“I know, and I take my share of the responsibility for that. I can’t pretend John and I paused to consider you, because we didn’t even pause to consider a condom, as is evident” Sherlock pats his baby bump.  
“At least you’re honest” Mary lets out a long breath. “I prefer that. It would be worse if you tried to tell me you really considered my feelings or worried about how I’d react, because you clearly didn’t.”  
“We didn’t, not that night” Sherlock confirms with a nod, before giving Mary a soft look, “but we did every moment after. You know well and good how much I love John, but the morning after, he looked at me with those big puppy eyes of his and asked me if I felt anything for our night, and I told him no, so he’d go back to you. I watched the man I love marry you, I played the violin for you, I made a speech at your wedding. I did all that for you, and for John. You made him happy, and I wanted him happy. I was willing to be miserable forever, if it meant you and John were happy. That’s how much you were considered Mary. I was willing to give John up for you.” 

It’s in that second that Mary gains a whole new perspective of the man known as Sherlock Holmes.  
She thought this man, with his amazing looks and brilliant mind, had swept her husband away from her, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s a human who made a bad mistake. In a night of passion, he slept with a man who’d always been in love with, not stopping to consider the consequences, but when it was all over, he did everything but stab himself in the heart to make things right.  
He was willing to give up the love of his life to make said love happy. Even when he got pregnant, he didn’t ask John to come back, he was willing to co-parent in different households, if that’s what made John happy. John was the one who chose to go racing back to Sherlock.  
Mary realises her love for John has been paling in comparison to Sherlock’s love John.  
She’s being silly, being angry at Sherlock. He’s being a better, bigger person then her, and frankly, she feels the need to step up to his level. 

"Famously right as usual” Mary realises. “I just want John to be happy, and you make him happy. That’s all that matters.”  
“My thoughts exactly when I watched him marry you” Sherlock smiles sadly, “funny how life changes, hu?”  
“Yes” Mary agrees, “I bet I’ll be watching John marry you soon enough!”  
Sherlock laughs, “he’ll have to put a ring on it first!”  
“Oh he will” Mary grins, “you’re his The One. You always were. I was only the stand in, but that’s okay, so long as John’s happy.”  
“Well then let’s have a cuppa and toast to John being happy.”  
Two cups of tea later, all the tension between the two is gone and their gossiping like best friends. Their googling pictures of ‘30 year old man’ and rating the men in the stock photos.  
“I’d give him a 8, easily” Mary coos.  
“8? He’s barely a 6!” Sherlock argues.  
“Whaaaaat? He’s literally a model, how can you give a model a 6?”  
“Ehh, models always looked so superficial, like plastic, I prefer my men to real” Sherlock shrugs. “Blonde, puppy-eyed, preferably military build…”  
Mary laughs, “I get it, you’re 8 will always be John.”  
“8? Girl, he’s a perfect 11, and the scale only goes to 10.”  
Mary laughs. 

It turns out; Sherlock is actually quite fun to be around! Mary had read and heard a lot about the famous Sherlock Holmes, the great mind, the brilliant genius, but she knew little to nothing about Sherlock the _person._  
It turns out; Sherlock the person is a real sweetie. Here they are, Sherlock sat with one leg folded over the over, leant right back against the sofa, his arm held up by his elbow, gesturing camply. It also turns out that if you get Sherlock talking about boys, he actually starts _acting_ gay!  
Usually Sherlock is the picture of composure and self-control. You’d never usually catch him moving about with such camp hand gestures or sitting with his legs folded like a woman, but it seems if you stick a few pictures of hot guys in front of him, he becomes the Gay Friend™.  
“I want you to know, you’re reinforcing every gay stereotype right now” Mary grins.  
“I don’t know what you mean” Sherlock grins, raising the bar on his camp hand-gesturing. Mary laughs again. 

Their like this for two hours. Laughing and gossiping like sisters, and this is the scene John comes home to, and when he walks through the door, he beams like a cat who got the cream.  
“Well just look at the two of you!” John beams, “you two friends now?”  
“We are” Mary smiles.  
“And we’re totally rating you on your sex performance” Sherlock grins.  
“Pfft, I wish I could! I didn’t get any” Mary tells.  
“Really?” Sherlock says in surprise, looking genuinely shocked.  
“I didn’t do anything sexual with any of my girlfriends Sherlock” John reports. “Couldn’t, too busy thinking about you.”  
“Well that’s made my day” Sherlock glows. 

John chuckles and opens his arms. Sherlock gets off the sofa and goes into John’s arms. The two hug tightly, clinging to each other like they’ve been apart for days when actually its just been two hours. “How’s my gorgeous man?” John asks, stroking Sherlock’s lovely hair off his face.  
“Good” Sherlock smiles, “I missed you.”  
“I missed you too” John coos, “how are the twins?”  
“Good too” chuckles Sherlock, “they missed you too.”  
“Now you’re just making me feel guilty” John grins, giving Sherlock’s forehead, “there, one for you” he bends down low, and kisses Sherlock’s belly twice, “and one each for the two of you!”  
“Well now we’re even” Sherlock beams, clearly lapping up the attention, looking deeply contented. He looks like a spoiled kitten!  
Mary giggles, “you look like a cat Sherlock.”  
“Not the first time I’ve been compared to a cat” Sherlock laughs. 

For the next two weeks, all is wonderful. Mary is back in John’s life, they go on outings together, and become like best friends again. Mary even forms a friendship with Sherlock too!  
“Ya wanna hear something scandalous?” Sherlock grins at her today over their usual gossip cup of tea. John’s out again, who knows where, probably just giving the two of them space.  
“Tell it to me” Mary invites excitedly.  
“Moriarty and I were more then enemies, more then detective and criminal mastermind” Sherlock tells, “we were frienemy’s. Sometimes, we liked the enemies part and just be friends. We’d sit and gossip, discuss which guys we found hot around London, and we’d laugh. Moriarty was the only other male Omega I could really talk to. Do you realise how rare male Omega’s are?”  
“How rare?” Mary wonders.  
“There’s only nine others in all of England.”  
“Nine hundred?”  
“No. Just nine. There was ten, then Moriarty died.”  
“Nine?!” Mary is gob-smacked. She recoils in a brand new revelation; “you must get so lonely” she realises sadly.  
“I do a bit” Sherlock admits, looking away distantly. “Yeah, I miss Moriarty a lot, especially now” he gives his baby bump - which has grown again in only two weeks - “it would just be nice to talk to another Omega right now, I guess.”  
“I get it” Mary says softly.  
“And Moriarty, he was more then just a brilliant criminal mastermind, like I’m more then just a great detective. He had some really fun times together. We understood each other. He was a good friend” Sherlock’s eyes are cloudy, “yeah, I miss him.”  
Mary gives his arm a pat, “I know, I’m sorry.”  
“Nah, I’m sorry, I don’t usually get all emotional, I swear” Sherlock blinks away his tears and becomes the personification of emotional control again. “It’s the hormones.”  
Mary gives a supportive smile, “I’ll bet. It’s not easy.”  
“Still” Sherlock says, with a fond smile, “you should have seen Moriarty in his jeans, or in a t-shirt. Damn, he looked better in those then he did his suits!”  
“And that cute little plastic Pride bracelet he always wore” Mary smiles nostalgically. 

Mary freezes. Sherlock freezes.  
It seems like a full minute ticks by.  
Mary is looking at Sherlock, and she sees it in his eyes.  
He’s figured her out.  
“My my” Sherlock says. “Now how would someone who never met Moriarty know he always wore a Pride bracelet?”  
“Now, look” Mary says, very slow and calm. “I know you’ve seen right through me but -”  
“Let me guess your sob story” Sherlock interrupts, cool and collected. “You were one of Moriarty’s assassins.”  
“Yes. A sniper. One of his best.”  
“His last order to you was to make nice with John, become his girlfriend and watch him, make sure I wasn’t faking my death. If it turns out I was, your orders were to kill John.”  
“Yes.”  
“But uh-oh, you ended up falling in love with John for real.”  
“He’s a very special man.”  
“So by the time I revealed myself to be alive, you were nicely settled into your fake life, you wanted it to be real.”  
“Yes.”  
“Mary Morstan isn’t even your name.”  
“Yes.”  
“What’s your real name?”  
“It doesn’t matter” Mary sighs. “I never wanted to be an assassin. I didn’t work for Moriarty, he owned me. I was forced. I didn’t want to be _his_ any more, I wanted to be Mary Morstan for real. John…he made Mary real.”  
“I see” Sherlock says, thoughtfully. 

There’s a moment of silence.  
“I don’t want to do anything, to anyone” Mary promises. “I don’t want to hurt you or John or the twins” She glances at Sherlock’s belly, “I just want to be normal. I want to be Mary. I want to be apart of your lives. I like the two of you, well, four” she glances at that belly again.  
“Well that’s all well and good” Sherlock nods, “and I like you too Mary, but all the same, John’s going to need to know about this.”  
“Why?” Mary tries not to beg, “if he knows, he’ll never trust me ever again. He’ll exclude me from his life, and I love being in his life. You know more then anyone what it’s like to want him as part of your life. He’s very important to me.”  
“I know” Sherlock replies calmly. “But John will understand. He won’t exclude you.”  
Mary looks at him, wide eyed, “No, he won’t. Please don’t tell him. John’s so protective of you, especially now” she glances once again at that baby bump, “He won’t let me within five miles of this flat or you or him if he knows about this.”  
“I can’t hide such things from him Mary” Sherlock tells her gently, “I don’t lie to him, that’s my rule.”  
“You were fake dead for two years, Sherlock” Mary points out. “Covering up something as simple as my past is easy by comparison.” 

Sherlock shakes his head and sighs, “may as well tell you now. John knew I was alive and well the whole time, Mary.”  
Mary can’t help recoil, “what?!” she whispers, shocked.  
“We text for hours every day under a fake name, he came to see me in person as often as he could, John knew I was alive.”  
Mary narrows her eyes sadly, “so everything he ever said to me was a lie?”  
“Hurts doesn’t it?” Sherlock cocks an eyebrow, “ _Mary_ ” he strains her name, emphasising that her name is a lie too.  
Mary sighs, “Right again. I guess that makes John and I equal then.”  
There’s another little silence. Seems neither of them know what to do in this situation. 

“I’m gonna ask you again” Mary says after a moment. “Please don’t tell John. I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want to lose him.”  
“I get it, but I have to. John’s an understanding guy, the two of you will get through this. He lied to you too, after all. He won’t be a hypocrite, he’s not the type.”  
It’s in that second that there’s no way Mary’s going to talk Sherlock out of this. He’s going to tell John everything and ruin Mary’s one little piece of normality. 

She darkens, “look, if you tell John, I’ll make you regret it.”  
Sherlock smirks, actually smirks. “Well I see we got away from the ‘you’re not here to hurt anybody’ thing real quick, and ur, Miss You Don’t Wanna Hurt John, how does threatening me, the most important person in his life, blend with that?”  
“I wasn’t threatening you, that would be stupid. You’re too important to John, you and the babies. No. I was thinking more like…how’s your brother?”  
Sherlock’s smirk widens, “honey, Mycroft will see you coming from two hundred miles away. Now, get out of my flat before I force you out.”  
“Oh sure, I’m going to be really threatened by a pregnant Omega.”  
Sherlock gets up off the sofa and stands firmly, “get out of my flat.”  
Mary stands up to face him down, “Not until we settle this.” 

“Fine by me” shrugs Sherlock.  
Before Mary can even blink, a sharp elbow hits in her in the jaw. Her head goes rocketing to the left and, as her body twists in the direction of the hit, she receives a heavy knee to her belly. The air rushes out of her lungs and she staggers. A powerful foot strikes her right on her hip bone, and she’s on the floor in less then a minute. Before she can even comprehend how she’s eating the carpet, Sherlock is kneeling on her back, twisting her arms behind her painfully and is hoisting her to her feet like a cop arresting a criminal, and just like that, Mary is being frog marched out of the flat.  
“Nice moves” she snarls.  
“Well I was a professional street fighter.”  
“Yeah well street fighter or not, you can’t force me into a cab. You’re gonna have to let me go sometime.”  
“How true” Sherlock says, he pins Mary’s hands behind her back with one hand. They pause for but a second at John’s armchair. Sherlock seems to reach for something, “what is a poor Omega like me to do?” he asks, looking despondently around, and Mary smirks at how vulnerable he looks. 

Sherlock moves again, giving Mary a shove out the front door. She whips around to face him to find a gun pressed to her forehead.  
She smirks.  
“Where’d you get the gun?”  
“I have ten hidden all around this flat. This one was in the stuffing of John’s arm chair.”  
“Very smart, Sherlock.”  
“Well I’m in a very vulnerable state” Sherlock smiles, stroking one hand along his belly, “I have to defend myself.”  
“Vulnerable my arse. The blog says you’ve taken down Alpha’s three times your size. In comparison, I’m nothing.”  
“Nice to be recognised” Sherlock smiles, the gun unwavering in his hand, the cold of the metal pressing into Mary’s forehead, “Now shoo.”  
There’s a click from the front door and John’s voice yells from below, “I’m home Sherlock!”  
“There’s John” Mary says smugly, “you better get that gun out of my face. Whatever will John think of you?”  
Sherlock breaks into his Grinch-like smile, “you underestimate John’s faith in me. John will come up here, see me pressing a gun to your head, and ask _you_ what _you_ did wrong.”  
“I was his wife. He won’t do that.”  
Footsteps start up the stairs, “Sherlock?”  
“You wanna bet?” Sherlock asks, coldly. “I suggest you run, and never come back, before John kills you with his bare hands for threatening his pregnant boyfriend.”  
Mary’s eyes flick thoughtfully, from Sherlock to the approaching footsteps.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Mary considers, and decides Sherlock is once again right.  
John values him more then he values Mary. John will believe Sherlock over Mary in a heartbeat.  
So Mary makes a break for it. She crashes into John who’s coming up the stairs.  
“Woah, Mary, what’s going on?” John asks, startled and baffled, but Mary just barges right past him and out the door.  
“Sherlock?” John calls worriedly, running up the last few stairs.  
"Hm?" Sherlock answers, who's inside the flat, pacing in circles, using a hand gun to scratch his head, which is only a thing he does when he's really stressed out.  
"What's the matter?" John frowns, on high alert already. "Are you okay?"  
"Yeah" Sherlock stops pacing but but keeps swaying, "the babies and I are fine."  
"Who's not fine then?" John asks, standing before the love of his life, full of worry.  
"Potentially? Mycroft" Sherlock tells. "In fact, I have to call and warn him real quick. Hang on."  
A phone call? Not text? This is serious.  
Sherlock breaks out his phone. His extremely-busy-running-England brother answers immediately. He knows if Sherlock is calling instead of texting, it's an emergency, and Mycroft knows it too.  
"What's wrong?!" Mycroft asks so loudly even John hears it.  
"Famee, tee latee la mee teela. So Meelatee. Ray' teeso sotee mee Meelaso' somee. Doh teetee sola. Ray meeteedoh' tee tee mee tee Mee la latee teetee, tee ray' lafa mee soteesodoh tee mee dd ladohtee, mee doh sotee" Sherlock speaks gibberish that clearly his brother understand. "Meeray, tee."  
Sherlock hangs up and slots his phone into his pocket, tossing the gun onto the table and stands there, cracking his knuckles.  
"Talk to me" John prompts, worriedly. "What was that language?"  
"Our own made up language, mine and Mycroft's. We made it up so we couldn't be understood by anyone else. You'd be surprised how many times it's come in handy" Sherlock says, before flopping into his armchair.

John sits slowly down opposite him, "what did you say?"  
Sherlock cracks his knuckles back and forth, looking unsure. He doesn't say anything.  
"You said Mycroft was in danger?" John prompts.  
"Yes. Seems one of Moriarty's assassins is back" Sherlock tells. He takes a shaky breath.  
"Well don't worry" John soothes. "Mycroft can handle himself."  
"It's not him I'm worried about."  
"Who then?"  
Sherlock gives him a long look, "you."  
"Me? Why?"  
"The assassin is Mary, John."

It takes a full minute for John to absorb this, during which, all is silent.  
Finally, John sinks into his chair, sighing deeply.  
"Why are you always right?" John asks miserably.  
"I wish I wasn't" Sherlock says, his voice low and sympathetic. "Now more then ever, I wish I wasn't."  
John closes his eyes as his head flops back in despair, "you warned me. You bloody warned me about this, remember?"  
"I remember" Sherlock says, softly...

John remembers it like yesterday. He can still see the memory clear as day before him;  
Two years ago, a week before the Fall:  
 _"Now, Moriarty will suspect I'll try to fake my death. He knows my mind as well as well as he knows his own. He'll put snipers on everyone I love: my parents, Mrs Hudson, Mycroft and naturally you. Now more then likely they won't be obvious assassins; they'll be sneaky. It'll be my brothers new limo driver or my parents new gardener, or Mrs Hudson's new poker partner. Moriarty is a brilliant man, and his assassins will be equally brilliant. They'll dress up like an old lady for Mrs Hudson, an innocent gardener for my parents, and for you? Probably a pretty new girlfriend."  
"What should I do?" John remembers asking. Home can remember Sherlock so vividly; stood in the centre of the living room, stick thin and two years younger. Radiant and lovely, it's funny remembering Sherlock so thin now John is used to him getting rounder and rounder by the day in the present! _

_"I recommend you don't date" Sherlock tells. "And don't let any new friends too close."  
John had sucked his lip, "so no dating?"  
Sherlock smirks, "okay, for you, that may be difficult, but it's either that or tell any and all girlfriends nothing. You are the grieving best friend, trust no one with the secret that I'm alive. I want you in therapy, back on your cane, I want you making passionate speeches about how much you miss me at my grave. It's either lying to any lady friends, or no lady friends at all."  
"If one comes along? Lying it is."  
"I still wouldn't recommend one John. What happens if you get emotionally invested in some woman who turns out to be an assassin? How are you going to feel then?"  
"It'll be **fine** , Sherlock."_

John balls his fist into his eyes, "why didn't I listen to you? Why didn't I just stay away from the dating scene all together?"  
"I was away, you got lonely. It's perfectly understandable John. None of this is your fault."  
John shakes his head in dismay. "She wasn't supposed to be like that" he swallows painfully. He pauses in painful reflection. Sherlock doesn't interrupt. "You know how much I love you, and our adventures" John flashes Sherlock a quick brave smile before it falls, "but I'm just an ordinary guy surrounded by brilliant minds. You, Mycroft, Moriarty even. It was nice for me, for once, to meet someone who wasn't... whenever we meet new people, nobody really cares about meeting me, their just excited to meet the great Sherlock Holmes. I'm an afterthought, if I'm included at all. Our clients, all our friends, people on the street, Scotland Yard... I'm just the sidekick to the superhero in their eyes. To Mary though? I was the impressive one. It was nice for me to have someone in my life who was interested just in me, someone on my level. Someone who wasn't another brilliant mind. It was nice for me to have a slice of something ordinary, in a world where everything and everyone else was so far beyond extraordinary. But now..." he swallows again. "It turns out Mary was get another brilliant mind, playing me like a fiddle, and had I slipped up or trusted her too much early in our relationship, she'd have killed me, and now she's threatening your family and it's my fault, because I invited her into our lives.”  
“It’s my fault too” Sherlock tells softly, “I should have seen through her sooner.”  
“What did make you see through her in the end?” John suddenly wonders.  
“Well I was talking to her about Moriarty again, how I miss having another Omega to talk to, and how he looked cute in jeans - oh don’t look at me like that John, he _did_ look cute in jeans, you may not be gay but I certainly am - and Mary said about him always wearing a plastic Pride bracelet.”  
John nods slowly, “and how would she know he wore a Pride bracelet unless she knew him.”  
“And she wasn’t exactly going to be his secretary. Moriarty only hired criminals and killers, so the conclusion that she was an assassin was a simple one.”  
“So it seems I can’t miss an ordinary friend I never actually had” sighs John. 

Sherlock gives him a loving look, "I'm sorry John. I didn't know you were lonely for an ordinary friend. If you like, we can find you a normal friend. Maybe Mike Stamford! He's a nice guy. You could spend more time with him."  
"I suppose" John considers.  
"I also know that there are support groups for ex soldiers, you could join one."  
"Might be nice" John says thoughtfully.  
"If it helps, I don't think you're ordinary" Sherlock smiles, "to me, you're really quite extraordinary."  
John smiles warmly, "I am?"  
"Of course you are. I don't sleep with ordinary people, John. You've always impressed me. You're really quite clever."  
Coming from Sherlock, 'clever' is a big compliment! "Thank you gorgeous" he pats his lap and opens his arms. Sherlock obediently climbs into John's lap. "Well" John says, stroking his fingers through Sherlock's lovely hair, "none of this matters. Yeah it's awful, Mary lied to me about everything, but it's okay, because I've got you, and our twins. As long as I've got the three of you, I don't need anyone else."  
Sherlock smiles and snuggles into John, "I'm glad. Who knows, maybe the twins will be ordinary and be ordinary friends for you."  
"I bloody hope not! I'm looking forward to little toddler versions of you, telling me about how all their kids in their class are 'boring'!"  
Sherlock laughs, "I'll try my best to pass on my gifts then."

Morning dawns and John finds the bed beside him empty. Sherlock is in his thinking position, lay flat on the coach, his fingers tented.  
"New case?" John smiles, bending down and kissing his got head.  
"Figuring out how to get Mary safely behind bars. I don't worry for Mycroft, nor really our family, but I'd still feel safer if she was locked up. I have to be extra careful these days after all" he gives his belly a loving rub.  
John smiles and kisses Sherlock belly, "true that. Don't worry, we'll figure something out, we always do. Do you know how beautiful you look pregnant?"  
"Tell me" Sherlock grins.  
John chuckles, "you're beautiful. You're gorgeous. You're glowing!'"  
Sherlock twinkles, "you know, getting pregnant is the best thing I've ever done. I actually really love it. Don't tell anyone I said that."  
"Your secrets safe with me, but you can tell everyone that I really love you being pregnant. I had no shame" John tells him. Sherlock laughs. "Now what does my beautiful family want for breakfast?" John asks, stroking at Sherlock's belly in loving little circles.  
"I can't waste any energy on digestion, I'm thinking."  
"Oh no no! You don't get to use that excuse any more, you have the twins to feed, remember?"  
"Uggggh" Sherlock groans, "I've changed my mind. Pregnancy is massively inconvenient. How much longer do I have to do this again?"  
"Well you're three and a half months, so ya know, only six months to go!"  
Sherlock groans elaborately. John chuckles brightly and heads for the kitchen.

***** *** MEANWHILE *** *****

"I wish you were here" Mary says to the spot on St Bart's roof where Moriarty died. "You'd know what I should do. Killing Mycroft would be great revenge on Sherlock, but how on Earth am I supposed to get to him? He's got bulletproof shields on every door and window, round the clock cameras, high walls, electric fences. His mansion is a fortress. I can't even snipe him!" Mary sighs, looking at the very faint copper brown stain of blood in the roof, engrained no matter how well it's cleaned. Mary sighs. "What would you do?" She asks the spot.

Seeking inspiration, Mary heads to the nearest bookshop and sees that in the 'new release' section that there's a new book on advanced mathematics and how it relates to science.  
Mary picks up the book and smiles at it fondly. Moriarty loved this stuff. He often did advanced mathematics like this in his free time. He called it relaxing.  
Mary flicks through the pages fondly. It's explaining how to do advanced math problems, some of Moriarty's favourites actually, and relating them to funny situations.  
 _Now let's say you want to make bombs, let's calculate exact measures of the ingredients you'd need..._  
That's funny, these are the measurements Moriarty would use. Fake ingredients, obviously, but those measurements.  
Seized by the crazy idea, Mary flicks to the back of the book to read to 'about author' flap. It says the author is a recluse who cuts himself from the world and is named only as 'mors mendacium'.  
Mary knows this well. It's Latin, it means 'death is a lie.'  
Oh God.  
This means only one thing.

It takes Mary two weeks, but she finds where the unnamed author of the book is living. It this isn't who she thinks it is, she'll apologise and leave.  
She rings the bell and waits, anxiously.  
Until the door is opened.  
By a wrist bearing a plastic Pride bracelet.

The familiar pair of dark eyes blink at Mary.  
Jim Moriarty is staring at her, alive, well, and in skinny jeans.  
"Moriarty" she whisper, breathlessly.  
"Heeeeyy" greets the master criminal.


	11. Moriarty returns!

Chapter 11: Moriarty returns!

That same day, Mary and Moriarty drive up to 221B Baker Street and park outside in Moriarty’s car. The master criminal turned out to have a Mercedes just hidden away, complete with tinted windows!  
Peering up at 221B, they can see John himself, peering out the window anxiously.  
“He’s keeping an eye out for me” Mary notes.  
“You would be too, if you had a pregnant boyfriend to protect” Moriarty says, calmly. When he answered the door to Mary, he was in jeans and a t-shirt, almost looking like a normal person. Now though, he’s back in a refined suit, and looks like his old self again. “But we’re not after him, correct?”  
“No, just Mycroft” Mary says, “I want to hurt Sherlock, but not directly. That’ll just break John’s heart, and hurting him is…unacceptable.”  
“You’ve got a weird goal girlfriend” Moriarty cocks an eyebrow, “so you just need me to get into Mycroft’s mansion?”  
“He has bulletproof shields on every door and windows, cameras covering every inch of the ground. You’re the only one who can hack through that level of security.”  
“Alright, I can do that” Moriarty nods, “wait till John’s moved, then get out of my car. I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”  
As if on cue, John turns his head as he’s heard something and leaves the window. So Mary follows his orders immediately, because questioning Moriarty is _always_ a death sentence.   
Once she’s gone, Moriarty gazes up at 221B, and grins.

The game is back on.

**************** ******* MEANWHILE ******** ***** ****************

“John, do stop peering out the window. You’re making me anxious” Sherlock remarks from his armchair.  
John sighs and returns to his armchair. "Sorry. I’m fighting the urge to wrap you in bubble wrap, I want you to know this.”  
Sherlock chuckles, looking all cosy curled up in his arm chair, pregnancy book in hand. He hasn’t looked up from the book. He looks so sweet and John feels yet another spike of protectiveness. Sherlock is only getting pregnant-er after all, and it seems the rounder he gets, the more protective John feels. Looking at Sherlock now, he looks so beautiful it makes John physically ache. Sherlock’s lovely curls are across his forehead, his beautiful lips are calmly resting in reading concentration, his rainbow eyes casting slowly left to right as he reads. Sherlock’s still skinny all over but his content looking baby bump.   
At 17 weeks/four months pregnant with twins, Sherlock’s bump is well popped out and low rounded, still small and cute, but much more noticeably then it would be if he was carrying one baby. John finds that adorable. He looks so sweet, so vulnerable, so delicate, John could cry.

He must look wet-eyed because Sherlock looks up and cocks an eyebrow, “okay, what’s the matter with you?”  
“I just….maybe we should get you somewhere safe” John says lovingly. “A safe house, or something. Mycroft must have places like that set up, right?”  
“Well sure he does” Sherlock confirms, putting his book down on the small armchair-side table. “But I’m in no danger John, and neither are you. Mary is only after Mycroft.”  
“You can’t be _completely_ sure of that, Sherlock. Mary has clearly gone off the deep end! And we need to be extra careful these days. We’re pregnant after all!”  
“Who’s we? I’m the pregnant one” chuckles Sherlock. “But yes, we do, and…if it’ll _really_ make you feel safer John, we can go to a safe house.”  
“It would most _definitely_ make me feel better!” John shines.  
“Well, pack us a bag then” Sherlock clambers out of his armchair, “I need a hot bath, I ache.”  
“Well that’s normal” John assures, before heading for the bedroom to pack. He’s halfway there when he stops. “How long should I pack for?”  
“Excellent question, how long are we supposed to hide for?” Sherlock asks, in the bathroom doorway, “are we going need to set up a twin nursery in this safe house?”  
John nibbles his lip, “ya know, it occurs to me that you being pregnant makes it a very inconvenient timing for hiding. Two newborns aren’t exactly the easiest thing to hide.”  
Sherlock laughs brightly, “I was wondering when that _little_ detail would occur to you.”  
“Shush you” John pouts, “okay, we go to the safe house for as long as it takes us to figure out how to put Mary safely behind bars forever. Like you did with the rest of Moriarty’s network.”  
“Sounds like a plan. Just pack lightly then, and anything else we need can be brought later” Sherlock says, before heading into the bathroom, the taps beginning the run furiously a second afterwards.  
“Teamwork” John nods, continuing into the bedroom.

John is stuffing their important things - money, debit cards, passports, documents - into two duffel bags, before pouring clothes on top of that, when the flat front door knocks and Mrs Hudson lets herself in.  
“Yoo-hoo!” she greets brightly.   
“Hey Mrs H” John calls from the bedroom.  
Mrs Hudson comes in, letter in hand, “where are the two are you off to?” she asks, spotting the bags.  
“Somewhere safe until we can figure out what to do about Mary” John reports.  
“Probably a good idea” Mrs Hudson agrees, before holding out the letter, “this just arrived for Sherlock pet.”  
“Thanks, I’ll give it to him” John bids, “we’ll probably be gone a while Mrs H, so don’t worry if we we’re not back.”  
“Okay dear. You take good care of Sherlock for me though!” Mrs Hudson warns.   
“I will” John laughs, and when Mrs Hudson shuffles out of the flat, John takes the letter to Sherlock, who’s kicked back in the bath.  
“I see Hudders is warning you with her life” Sherlock grins.  
“Yep, and you look adorable naked, you got a little stretch marks!” John beams, before tossing Sherlock a hand towel, “letter for you.”  
Sherlock tries his hands and takes the letter. Opening it he examines it in wonder, “hu, it’s coded” he shows John the letter, which takes up an A4 page, and it’s all random letters and shapes.  
“That’s weird” frowns John, “well, I’ll ask you to read it to me in five minutes, when you’ve deciphered it.”  
Sherlock chuckles at John’s confidence in him as the doctor leaves Sherlock to it to go back to packing.

Sherlock, relaxing in the lovely hot water, leans back contently, examining the letter. It’s no code he’s ever seen before, but it looks like it may be several codes he is familiar with mashed up together. Mildly complex, but not much of a challenge for the detective. Let’s see, the boxes stand for E, that’s a good start, and the 11’s are H’s, easy, okay…  
And in less then five minutes, the letter is as plain before Sherlock as if it were written in English.  
 _‘Sherlock. I’ve heard the joyous news about your current condition, congrats on the twin pregnancy! Knowing this, I don’t want to panic you but…I’m alive!’_  
Sherlock jerks up so fast he sends a tidal wave in his bathtub. He has to hold the letter up high as the wave drenches him up to his chest.   
Moriarty! It can’t be! His heart racing, Sherlock reads on.  
 _‘Yes its me, Moriarty. I know you’ll have guessed that by now. I’m actually sat outside your flat right now, writing this in my car. I can see you and Johnny Boy walking around through the window. I know, I’m such a peeping tom.’_  
Oh good lord.  
 _‘Now. We have many things which we need to discuss. Firstly, let me begin by telling you how I came to be sitting outside your flat once more….’_  
As Sherlock reads on, he settles into buzzing, bubbling excitement.   
The game, it seems, is back on!

Sherlock comes out of the bath humming. Which he almost never does. He practically dances into the bedroom.  
"Fun puzzle for you?" John asks brightly. "Was the letter a good challenge?"  
"Took me five minutes so mild" Sherlock shrugs. "We don't need to leave after all, sorry to waste your packing" Sherlock says, looking sadly at John's packed bags.  
"Why not?" John wonders.  
"Well" Sherlock sits down on the edge of the bed in his towel, picking up a hairbrush, "it's a bit of a shock, do you promise to stay calm?"   
"Are you safe?" John asks simply, scooting up behind Sherlock on the bed, picking up another towel and beginning to gently rub his boyfriend dry from behind.   
"Yes, perfectly, and I'll stay that way, I promise" Sherlock swears, beginning to brush his wet curls.  
"That's all that matters then" John tells him lovingly. "If you say everything's fine, then it is."  
"Your level of complete trust in my word and judgement has always been, and continues to be astounding John" Sherlock shakes his head in amazement. He combs the brush through his hair and a mass amount of loose hair comes out with the motion. Sherlock tuts, "I swear, I'm moulting like a cat these days."  
"Well that's normal" John says warmly, "during pregnancy hair and nail growth increases about two fold."  
"Hu" Sherlock inspects his unusually-long-for-his-taste nails, "that explains a lot."

"And how beautiful it looks on you too" John smiles lovingly. "So tell me, what's the situation?"  
Sherlock turns around on the edge of the bed, looking at John with those big multi coloured eyes of his. “John, Moriarty is alive. That coded letter is from him.”  
Everything within John wants to hit the ceiling in panic and anger, but he puts a lid on the volcano before it erupts by reminding himself this is Sherlock, and if Sherlock says its safe, then it is. Period.  
“Okay” John lets out a calming breath, “what exactly does the letter say?"  
"Well" Sherlock gets up and gathers fresh clothes from the wardrobe. "That's the thing, Moriarty claims the only reason he's back from the dead is because your ex wife dragged him out of hiding, and he actually doesn't want to help her. He says he wants rid of her as badly as we do so he can go back to writing."  
John take a moment to absorb all this, then asks, calmly, "and do you believe that?"  
"I do" Sherlock tries to give a dignified nod, but it's thrown off by the fact he's currently struggling into his trousers. He tuts as he just about buttons them up, "I'm going to have to give into maternity clothes sooner or later, aren't I?"   
"You are, but you're going to look great in them" John encourages. "What makes you believe Moriarty has had this big change of heart?"  
"I think a change of heart is too strong a term John. I just believe he truly wants to devote himself to his studies. That's what he always said he'd want to do after he defeated me. He said that would be his peak, his mount Everest climbed, and after that he just wanted to write. Mary's bothering him, disturbing his work. He wants her in jail, we want her in jail. Perhaps it's better the devil we know?"  
John considers, nibbling his lip thoughtfully. "I mean, we do need a way to get her properly locked up..."  
"And I'll bet you Moriarty already has a flawless plan, but he needs us to play a part, otherwise he'd have just had her locked up on his own and never written to me. Or be outside right now."  
“He’s -” John says in surprise, “I see.”  
“So what do you say? Is it better the devil we know?”  
John sucks his teeth, swallows his fear, and nods, “let’s do it.”

**************** ******** THE NEXT DAY ************* *****************

The set up for the meeting with Moriarty is intense. Everybody comes to support and protect Sherlock; Lestrade, Mycroft, even Mrs Hudson.  
“I brought you a bullet proof vest to slip on” Lestrade says, passing Sherlock an under shirt, ultra thin t-shirt bulletproof vest. “It might be a little tight on that baby bump of yours, but it won’t do you any harm.”  
“Jeez thanks” Sherlock says, sarcastically, but to John, who knows Sherlock so well, can tell he’s grateful. He slips into the kitchen and John can see him just around the corner taking off his shirt and slipping on the vest. He keeps everyone else’s eyes away by calling their attention the other way though.  
“So what’s the plan of action?” John asks.  
“Well I’ve got a police sniper in the building directly across the street” Lestrade points, but John can’t see anything in the building opposite, which means Moriarty won’t be able to either. “Sit Moriarty here” he pulls Sherlock’s armchair so its back is to the window, “then we’ll have a clear shot to the back of Moriarty’s head.”  
“Ideal” John agrees with a nod.  
“He’s not going to try to hurt me” Sherlock calls with a groan in his voice, like he’s exasperated by all this. “You’re all fussing waaaaaaaay too much” he strains.   
“So sue us” Mycroft chips in, “I brought you a spy watch.”  
“Ooh, James Bond” Sherlock says, coming out of the kitchen, back in his shirt and blazer. Hidden under both of which, the slight bulk of the bullet proof vest is barely visible as Mycroft offers him a completely normal looking watch. “One press of the button and you begin live recording, audio only. I’ll be using its matching receiver downstairs in Mrs Hudson kitchen with Lestrade. We’ll hear everything, if things seem to be going south, we’ll be right up. Or you know, just say our code word.”  
“Will do. Thanks Mycroft” Sherlock gives a smile and straps the watch on. There’s nothing unusual looking about it at all; it would certainly fool John!

“Right, sniper set up, watch on, vest” Sherlock checks off, “John, you want a vest too?”  
“I suppose that’s a good idea” John agrees, “after all, I can’t afford to get shot. I’ve got two babies who need me.”  
“I’ll get another from the car then, shall I?” Lestrade says.  
“Yes, and after that, everybody but John needs to make a show of leaving. Moriarty won’t come if he thinks you’re all here. John he won’t mind, but everyone else? No way. You’ll have to leave then sneak around the back. Mrs H, I don’t want you here, safety first and all.”  
“I’ll go make myself busy at a Bingo game dearie” Mrs Hudson nods. “You just take care of yourself and those babies.”  
“I will Mrs Hudson, I promise. Don’t worry, I have lots of protection, as you can see” Sherlock tells, “you’re all my big strong men, as a poor, helpless Omega, I feel very protected.”  
Everyone else in the room rolls their eyes as his level of sass. 

Once John is strapped into a bullet proof vest, which he wears under his shirt, atop which is his favourite knitted cream jumper.  
Well, he says his favourite, what he means is that it’s Sherlock’s favourite.  
“Would you stop doing that?” Sherlock grins as he fixes his hair in the mirror.  
“Doing what?” asks John.  
“You, with your big brown puppy dog eyes and wearing your big cuddly jumpers so you look cute.”  
John beams, knowing the game their playing, “I don’t do that.”  
“Yes you do.”   
They both giggle, like the idiots in love they are!   
“You really do look like a teddy bear in that jumper” Sherlock admires, “how can someone so badass look so damn adorable?”  
“It’s a talent of mine” John shines, before the good mood fades as he catches sight of everyone sneaking out of the flat. All the colour seems to drain from the world as he realises, “I suppose he’ll be here soon.”  
“Yes” Sherlock says calmly, giving John a reassuring look, “it’ll be okay John. Moriarty have played a hundred games, and I’ve never lost once, have I?”  
“No” John breathes, “you’re always ten steps ahead of him.”  
“And I am still” Sherlock shines, “now Moriarty will have been watching the flat. He’ll know we’ve had Lestrade and Mycroft here. He’ll know I’ll have precautions in place. He’s probably either seen or figured out we have a sniper in place. So” Sherlock goes over to his chair and pulls a small box out of his blazer pocket, which he attaches to the bottom of his own chair. “One electric current, ready to be delivered with a press of a secret button here in my pocket. This will knock him out in a second, if needs be.”  
“And you said Mycroft, Lestrade and I were making a fuss.”  
”You are, but that doesn’t mean the fuss isn’t necessary. After all, I’m carrying two extra lives these days. Safety first.”  
“I can’t wait to tell our babies you used to be the total opposite of ‘safety first’” John grins.  
Sherlock chuckles, before they both startle at the sound of the downstairs front door being opened.

“He’s here! How do I look?” Sherlock asks, nervously.  
“Beautiful as always, but you’re mine now” John reminds him, sternly.  
“Pfft, last time I checked, I was still Unclaimed” Sherlock teases with a grin, just as the door knocks.  
Sherlock stands up straighter, irons out his blazer although its not wrinkled, and struts confidently over to the door just as it knocks.  
“Hello Sheryl” Moriarty grins, standing proudly on the other side of the door. He’s in black skin tight jeans and an equally tight white t-shirt. His infamous plastic Pride bracelet is still on his left wrist. “Johnny Boy” he nods at John, beside Sherlock.  
“Hello Moriarty, you’re looking good for a corpse” Sherlock remarks.  
“As are you, especially a corpse that splattered itself on the pavement” Moriarty bats back.  
The two grin, like chess players facing each other over a game. Two halves of a whole who are happy to finally be back together.

“And look at you, all knocked up!” Moriarty stares in near horror at Sherlock’s baby bump, “twins! I thought I'd never see the day that you let such a thing to you."  
“Bit of an accident” Sherlock chuckles. “But a good one. Does pregnancy look good on me?”  
“It does, looks very cute on you, as do those bullet proof vests you’re both wearing” Moriarty remarks, “a little unfair, considering you have a police sniper watching me through the window.”  
Sherlock sniggers and looks to John, “you see why I like him, don’t you?”  
“The two of you fit very nicely” John agrees, “you match in brilliance.”  
“That we do, and since I want to show you that I'm telling the truth about all this, I’ll play your game” Moriarty slides into the flat and sits in Sherlock’s chair, “this gives them the perfect line to the back of my head, eh?”  
“You’re an amazing man Moriarty” Sherlock compliments, sitting opposite him in John’s chair. John sits on the arm of his chair beside him. “I knew you’d see straight through me Moriarty.”  
“And that annoying brother of yours was just here, along with that Inspector whoever, so the rooms no doubt been bugged some how” Moriarty continues. “Hello Mycroft, Scotland Yard! I know you both can hear me, wherever you’re listening from.”   
John is seriously amazed, “he really is just like you Sherlock.”  
“That’s why we get along so well, eh Moriarty?”  
“Ying and yang, eh Sheryl?”  
The two geniuses share knowing smiles. Smiles that hide a thousand secrets.

"Still, I suppose you and I can gossip later Sheryl" Moriarty waves a hand, "not why were here, right?"  
"Right" agrees John.  
"Well it was your ex wife who dragged me out from under my rock Johnny Boy" Moriarty tells. "Up till now, I was happy with my studies and writing. That's how Mary tracked me down, by my latest mathematics teaching book. I was content to stay that way forever, thinking I'd peaked with Sherlock's defeat. What a let down the truth is, eh?"  
"Back at you, I'm very disappointed to see you alive" Sherlock grins, knowing Moriarty is as glad to see him as Sherlock is to see him. 

"Well since I want to get back to my books" Moriarty goes on, "I say we set up a sting. Mary will never go into Mycroft's mansion if she just suddenly finds the door open. So I pretend to hack the system, then you open up Fort Knoks. The next step is up to you."  
"Well" Sherlock considers. "Much like myself Mycroft has an emergency life sized doll he can put in his bed. Let Mary in at night, and we can set up the doll like it's sleeping. Mary will shoot the doll in the dark and bam! Police officers will jump out the closet."   
"Perfect!" Moriarty cheers. "Then I can go back to my studies, and you two can go back to playing Expectant Parents" he glances at Sherlock's bump.  
"How are we supposed to trust that?" John asks sternly. "That you'll just leave us alone?"  
"What's the alternative Johnny Boy?" Moriarty cocks an eyebrow.   
"Don't call me Johnny Boy, and the alternative is you doing something to hurt Sherlock or our twins, either before or after their born."  
"When have I ever tried to hurt Sherlock? We play mind games, not physical ones, and I'll call you what I like Sugar Lips" Moriarty makes kissy faces at John.  
"You forced him to jump off a roof!" John snaps, ignoring the shudder he gets by being called Sugar Lips.

"Only cause we'd reached an impasse with the mind games" Moriarty rolls his eyes like this is an obvious thing everyone should know. "He's not very bright is he, Sheryl?"   
"He's just ordinary, Moriarty" Sherlock says softly. "Ordinary people don't get it" Sherlock looks up at John, "Moriarty won't do anything to me John."  
"What about after the twins are born? You don't have a horrific image of him using them as leverage some day?" John demands.  
"Using loved ones as leverage? What do I look like? A superhero movie villain? That's so cliché" Moriarty moans, like the idea is so boring it's painful to him.  
"You strapped a bomb to me and used me as leverage!" John reminds.  
"Only to bring Sher-Sher and I together for the first time, I have no need for such boring techniques  
these days" Moriarty says like this is obvious. He looks to Sherlock, “you reallllally need to get rid of him Sheryl, he’s a bloody moron. Doesn’t he understand the game _at all?_ ”   
“I’m right here ya know” John growls.

“Moriarty’s not going to do anything to me or our twins” Sherlock says firmly, “and if he tries, I’ve got him handled, don’t I Moriarty?”  
“Honey you wish” Moriarty grins, but it’s clear from the shine in his eyes that he likes being out smarted, he lives for the challenge. “But it doesn’t matter, I won't be doing anything to anyone, I’m actually officially retired from being Jim Moriarty. I’m James Moran now, legally. I have no interest in criminal masterminding any more.”  
Even Sherlock seems surprised. “Why?” Sherlock asks, simply.  
“I peaked with your death, the fact that you faked it is irrelevant” Moriarty shrugs. “You also happened to do the very rude deed of dismantling my entire network.”  
“Woospie?” Sherlock shrugs, innocently.  
“So I could rebuild my old life, establish a new network, but eh, what’s the point? I’m content with my studies” Moriarty says dismissively. He holds up a right hand, “I do solemnly swear; I’m done with being a spider in his web.”  
John looks to Sherlock, who’s studying Moriarty deeply, “I love my work Moriarty, I would never give it up, and I know you’re just as passionate, why would you give it up?”  
“I told you, I tire of it” Moriarty confirms. “Eventually you’ll stop working, right?” Moriarty looks to the bump, “you won’t be able to see your feet before long, after all!”  
“Temporarily, sure” Sherlock confirms, “I’ve promised John I’ll go on maternity leave at six months.”  
“You’ll be plenty well rounded by then!” John coes, lovingly.  
“But just until I’m recovered from the birth. Then its straight back to crime scenes!” Sherlock chirps, his eyes shining with the excitement of it all. “I could never stay away too long, that’s my point.”  
“Well I guess we’re different after all” Moriarty's says, “because I retire, officially” Moriarty throws up his hands in defeat. “I’d rather just be your friend Sheryl. Gossip together, play chess, be like normal people, expect less boring.” 

There’s a shine in Sherlock’s eye. “I’d love to be your friend Moriarty” He admits, “But I can’t trust you.”  
“So don’t” Moriarty shrugs, “how many friends truly trust each other anyway?”  
Sherlock smiles, and for a change, looks to John, “what do you think John?”  
John’s instinct as both an Alpha and a father-to-be want to say ‘no way are we letting this psychopath anywhere _near_ you!’ but…looking at how hopeful Sherlock looks, and how honest Moriarty sounds…  
John knows how lonely Sherlock is for a male Omega friend, and Moriarty is the only male Omega on Sherlock’s level, and the two of them clearly connect outside of being hero-and-villain paring. If Moriarty has truly given up the criminal masterminding life, then these two would make amazing friends, and John knows it.  
“There needs to be ground rules” John says firmly. “You two are never fully alone together. You want to hang out the flat? I’ll be in the bedroom. You want to go have a coffee? Mycroft will be at the next table. Someone we trust will always be nearby. You ask to be alone with him Moriarty, and I take that as a warning sign.”  
“Okay Johnny Boy, someone’s protective” Moriarty rolls his eyes.  
“But otherwise yes?” Sherlock grins, hopefully.  
“Yeees” John allows, unwillingly.   
Moriarty and Sherlock cheer, and John can’t help a smile! Those two can be surprisingly cute!

************** ************** *******************

Moriarty let’s Mary into Mycroft’s locked down manor with a few clicks on a laptop. With just a few taps, Moriarty has hacked through Mycroft’s defences. Which just shows how brilliant a mind he has.  
“In you go then, he’s asleep in his bed” Moriarty tells.  
Mary nods, slides the silencer onto her handgun,and simply creeps through the now electronically unlocked front door. Mary tiptoes through the dark, silent mansion and up the stairs. Moriarty gave her the directions to the master bedroom - he must have got a hold of the floor plan - and his directions are perfect.   
Mary pushes silently into the master bedroom, where she can see Mycroft himself, asleep in bed in the pitch black room, only his silhouette visible.  
Mary leaves her gun and fires silently. There’s a THUNK as the bullet hits - then there’s a gun in her own neck.  
“Drop the weapon” warns an official voice, and Mary is forced to. As her gun hits the floor, the lights flick on and heavily armed SCO19 officers step out of the closets in the bedroom and from behind doors all around Mary.  
And Mary sees that the figure in the bed - is a life-sized doll of Mycroft.

“You can thank Moriarty for this” says the officer behind her, who Mary can now turn around and see is Lestrade himself. “He set this whole thing up.”  
As Mary is strapped into handcuffs she mumbles in stunned shock, “Moriarty….betrayed me?”  
As Mary is marched out of the mansion, she sees him. Moriarty. Stood beside a police car with John, Sherlock and the real Mycroft himself, all laughing. Actually laughing as she’s marched into a police car.  
“Bye bye darling!” Moriarty grins, waving. “This is why you worked _under_ me, you’ll never be even _half_ as good!"  
Mary snarls as she’s shoved into the police car and locked in. She’s a bright woman, she knows, with Mycroft involved, the literal embodiment of the British Government involved, she knows she’s never going to be a free woman again.  
She’s done.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

John progressively relaxes over the coming weeks.  
For a while, he’s sure that Moriarty will turn on them any second, but he doesn’t. He and Sherlock sit and gossip over hot drinks. He and Moriarty go out for long walks - with someone John trusts tailing them of course - they basically just hang out like best friends, and eventually, John relaxes completely. It’s funny how Moriarty slips so naturally into their lives. How normal it becomes that he’s a part of their lives.  
It’s funny how seeing Moriarty or hearing his name would strike fear and protectiveness into John’s heart, but now he’s just part of the scenery.   
“Hey you two” John greets, two weeks later. Sherlock and Moriarty are sat between a literal chess board - John isn’t sure where that came from honestly - in the flat. At 20 weeks/4.6 months pregnant, Sherlock’s belly has grown and its not longer so easily swallowed by a shirt and blazer. Now, Sherlock is stopped and the street and cooed at, noticeably, visibly pregnant rather then just looking like he’s eaten too many cupcakes. This is adorable to John, but very annoying to Sherlock when he gets stopped by other mothers who want to coo at his little belly.  
Sherlock hates this. John finds it funny.

“How are my two favourite Omega’s?” John glows, kissing Sherlock on the top of his head.  
“We’re the only Omega’s you know Johnny Boy” Moriarty points out, as full of sass as always.  
“You’re still my favourites” John insists, bending down and kissing the belly, “hi Hamish, hi Harvey!”  
Just yesterday, the two of them went to a scan and decided to find out what they were having. It’s two boys! Unidentical twins, and they’ve named them Hamish and Harvey, two traditional names that “go well together” according to Sherlock.  
“Hello to you too Daddy” Sherlock says in a cutesy baby voice, before he chuckles at himself. “Love you!” he adds. John shines and rubs a hand through Sherlock’s hair.  
John heads to the kitchen to put the milk away and leaves the two genius’ to their chess. It’s lovely, seeing Sherlock so happy, looking over and seeing how much he’s shining. He puts the glow into pregnancy!   
Sherlock plays a move in chess and laughs smugly. Moriarty is just rolling his eyes when Sherlock startles, “Oh!” he yelps, his hands going to his tum.  
Both John and Moriarty leap to his side, but Moriarty, being less then two feet away, of course gets there first. “What’s the matter?” Moriarty asks.  
“Yes, that” John asks, screeching to a halt beside Sherlock.  
“I felt a kind of…pop” Sherlock reports, worriedly. He startles again, “and again!”  
“Where honey?” John asks softly, kneeling down at his side. Sherlock looks scared, so Moriarty offers his hand and Sherlock takes a hold of it gratefully. He shows John where he feels the popping with his other hand. John gives Sherlock’s bump a feel. He then grins, “their kicking! This is what kicking feels like gorgeous.”  
“Oh” Sherlock realises, then laughs, “well now I feel silly! Their kicking?!” he beams excitedly.  
“Yep! Our first kick” John is beaming.  
“Awww!” everyone coos.

And to think, John had been so worried about Moriarty doing something to harm their babies, but the second he arrives in their lives, he’s utterly supportive of Sherlock’s pregnancy, and becomes just as involved as John is!  
He’s at every doctor’s appointment, he attends every scan, he comes with them to pregnancy yoga, he sits and reads pregnancy and baby books with Sherlock for hours. He ensures Sherlock eats a pregnancy-aiding diet, healthy and yet high in calories, which Sherlock is ever so fussy about.  
“Sweet treat” John presents Sherlock with a hefty bowl of ice cream.   
Sherlock groans, “this is my sixth snack!”  
“And you’re going to need more!” John chirps, “a healthy man needs 2,500 a day, and in twin pregnancy you need to add six hundred more up to 3,100! So eat up.”  
“I have never eaten 2,500 calories in a day in my _life_ ” Sherlock moans. “Let alone 3,100! I’m going to end up as fat as Mycroft!”  
“Now now, don’t give me a hard time. You’ve been managing your calories since the start of your pregnancy, and I’m certainly not going to let up now. You’re only going to need more calories in your third trimester, so get eating!”  
Sherlock folds his arms, and pouts, “No.”  
“Come on Sher-Sher” Moriarty, who seems to practically live at Baker Street these days, speaks up. “What’s best for Hamish and Harvey, hmm?”  
Sherlock pouts harder, but begins eating his ice cream, and John gives Moriarty a grateful grin. It’s nice to have extra help around here, especially when dealing with Sherlock!

Although Sherlock’s mind stays as brilliant as ever despite how his belly grows, the rest of him, um, lets just say it has some catching up to do!  
Sherlock’s belly has extended to the point where he’s no longer his usual nimble self by five months. When presented with stairs up to a crime scene, he huffs his way up, having to take several breaks on just two floors of stairs.  
“Ugh” Sherlock pants today, halfway up the second set of stairs, “look what you’ve done to me John” Sherlock scolds, “I used to run up and down ten flights of stairs without pause for breath, and now I’m exhausted after ten steps, are you proud of yourself?”  
“Extremely” John teases, “and technically its the twins fault, their little energy drainers.”  
“Yes, but it’s your fault that I got pregnant” Sherlock nods, “so I blame you.”  
John chuckles, “come on, I’ll help you.” He puts a supportive arm around Sherlock’s back and takes him by the hand, “I’ve got you.”  
“I used to leap across rooftops chasing murderous taxi drivers” Sherlock pants as John eases him up the stairs. “Now, I struggle to sit down on my own.”  
“Ha! You’ll be back to springy self before you know it” John assures.  
“But never the same! I’ll never shake all the baby weight this is gonna put on me. 3,000 calories John. 3,000!”  
John laughs, “well I’ll love you, baby weight and all. You’ll have a Mom-bod! I love Mom-bods.”  
Sherlock groans, elaborately.

Finally they arrive in the upstairs murder room, where Lestrade says “about time” rather unhelpfully.  
“You trying being five months pregnant, you dope” Sherlock huffs angrily.   
John decides its best he scuttle over to the body on the floor and begin examining it, in case Sherlock decides to deduce poor Lestrade down to his underwear, but thankfully Lestrade takes a large step back and throws his hands up in defeat, sparing him from his fate.   
Sherlock moves on, still glaring at the inspector, and stands over the body. He tries to bend down and begin his usual deducing, but finds doing so a tad difficult with his bump in the way.  
Sherlock huffs loudly in frustration as he’s forced to stand by back, only having made it half way into his bend. “Oh for goodness sake!” he snaps at nobody in particular.  
Poor Greg rushes over and offer his arm, silently. “Very decent of you” Sherlock grumbles, taking the inspectors arm and allowing Lestrade to help Sherlock lower down to the floor, where he sits with his legs folded to the left beneath him. “Right then” Sherlock says, doing his usual inspection of nails and hair. “Nothing unusual under the nails, very clean actually, so they didn’t scratch their killer” Sherlock says thoughtfully. “But there are fragments of clay in his hands, interesting. They obviously wielded a clay object, a pot or vase properly, at their attacker instead, but there are no larger pieces of any such pot on the ground.”  
“So the killer cleaned up after themselves” John remarks, “I don’t see any signs of violence on the body, no stab wounds, no marks of strangulation, nothing”  
“Hm” Sherlock hums, moving the victims hair about, “I wonder if -” he shifts uncomfortably and sighs, “twins” he says to his belly, “do stop moving, Dada’s trying to think.”  
John fights a smirk, “I love when they move, its so cute!”  
“For you! You get to feel them move occasionally and get to coo over the miracle of growing life. For me, its almost constant. At first it so cute and ‘aw, look at how my babies move’, now its just a pure annoyance.”  
John tuts, “don’t call our children an annoyance!”  
“You’ll be calling them an annoyance too, once their born!” Sherlock grins, “Just you wait and see.”  
“Um, guys?” Lestrade pipes up, “can you..not be proud parents, for like five minutes? You’re chatting about the miracle of life over a dead body, may I remind you!”  
“Whoops?” John and Sherlock grin, innocently.

Of course, Sherlock can only go on for so long, and he did promise to go on maternity leave at six months, which he officially hits today, his bump having grown to new heights, seemingly in celebration.  
“Happy maternity leave!” John beams, kissing him that morning.  
Sherlock grunts at him, unhappily.  
“Oh I know, but Lestrade will bring you cold cases” John tries to encourage. “The time will fly by until the twins are born, and then you’ll be back in action.”  
Sherlock pouts and says nothing. “Yeah yeah, my pouty kitten” John boops his nose, “I’m going to go shower, you keep your feet up though, okay?”  
The second he’s gone, Sherlock’s phone pings with a message. Lestrade has a new case. Sherlock quietly and quickly - well, as quickly as his ever expanding belly will allow - sneaks out of the flat. He’s just coming down the stairs when Moriarty lets himself in - he has his own key now, he’s that trusted - through the front door.  
He grins, “ooh, where are you sneaking off to?”   
“Work” Sherlock grins back. “You wanna come?”  
“Heck yeah!” Moriarty beams, and follows Sherlock out the front door. Just as they climb into a cab, they hear John calling, “Sherlock?!” and they giggle as they make their get away.

The two of them have a great time for about half an hour at the crime scene, until John tracks them down.  
“WILLIAM SHERLOCK SCOTT HOLMES!” He booms as he jumps out the taxi.  
“Oh no, my full name, that means trouble” Sherlock says, as he turns to greet John as he storms up to the crime scene. “Hello darling” Sherlock shines, innocently.  
“Don’t you look so innocent at me!” John snaps, “you promised me you’d rest this month!”  
“One last case won’t hurt me, John.”  
“That’s not the point, you broke your promise.”  
“I’ll start resting tomorrow for sure.”  
“And what if there’s a new fascinating case tomorrow, hm?”  
“Then I shall have to resist temptation” Sherlock says calmly.  
“Oh because you’re excellent at that!” John spots. “You’re reckless!”   
“Now you’re not being fair! I’ve taken brilliant care of myself, I’ve kept well out of trouble, I’ve only taken safe cases. I’ve allowed myself to be fed up like a Christmas turkey. I’ve been ever so safe, you can’t go accusing me of being reckless now just because I left the house without your permission! Good grief John, you’re starting to sound like a controlling husband!”  
John’s jaw locks in stiff annoyance, “I’m just trying to look out for you.”  
“I’m perfectly able to look after myself” Sherlock says, firmly.   
“Doesn’t look like it!”  
“Now look here, you’re not my husband, you haven’t even asked me! Not to mention you haven’t Claimed me. You fell right in with Mary and you haven’t made even half the effect to commit to me, the mother of your children!” Sherlock snaps.  
It’s a rare thing for Sherlock to snap or raise his voice. He’s usually so calm and controlled, and its jarring to hear.

“Wow, wow, what are we yelling about?” Moriarty calls, rushing to meet them outside of the crime scene. “I’m no doctor John, but I’m pretty sure yelling at Sherlock is the last thing you should be doing. You’ll stress the babies.”  
“Like he cares. He only cares about stressing the babies when its an excuse to tell me off, right John?” Sherlock scowls.  
John sighs, “you know that’s not true. I’m sorry, okay? I’ve got…first-time-Dad jitters and I’m taking them out on you. I’m sorry Sherlock. You’re right, I am being overbearing, and I don’t mean to be. I promise I’ll try to give you your space, okay?”  
“Hm” Sherlock huffs.  
“And you’re also right about something else” John stares. “Will you marry me Sherlock? Preferably as soon as possible?”  
“Certainly not” frowns Sherlock, seriously. “You’ll be twice as demanding as my husband if you’re this demanding as my boyfriend.”  
“Didn’t I just promise to be better? Come on, you know you wanna marry me.”  
“I _really_ don’t” sulks Sherlock.  
“You doooooo.”  
“Do not.”  
“Do so.”

After their argument is settled, Sherlock of course comes around, because they are, after all, in love!  
Hopeless idiots in love, but in love all the same.  
Thanks to Mycroft’s power and money, they get it all sorted within a week. Sherlock and John have a grand murder-themed wedding where there’s crime scene tap for decorations and blood red napkins and chalk outlines of dead bodies on the dance floor.  
Sherlock looks well and truly stuffed into his suit, having to force his large six-month pregnant belly into a suit, but he looks beautiful all the same. And John gets his first happy wedding, one full of love and hope!  
“I’m sorry I’ve been so overbearing” John coos as they sway with their first dance. “I’m just anxious about the babies.”  
“I know, its okay, I’d rather have a devoted daddy-to-be then not” Sherlock smiles, “plus, its not like I haven’t been overly hormonal myself. We’ll both laugh about all this once the twins are born.”  
“True true” John gives him a kiss on the forehead, “I love you, and I’m Claiming you tonight whether you like it or not.”  
“Ooh, my aggressive Alpha, kinky” Sherlock giggles.

As soon as their first dance ends, literally the second the song stops, Moriarty, Sherlock's best man, swoops in.  
"Coming in to steal your man!" Moriarty grins, taking Sherlock off for a dance, who laughs happily as he dances about with the once master criminal.  
It's both bizarre and amazing to see Moriarty in the role of best man. Eight months ago Sherlock was giving his best man's speech at John's wedding. Now, John's having another wedding to said best man, and that best man has upgraded to the role of husband, and that husband has chosen their once biggest threat as his best man.  
Funny, how fast life can change.  
In three more short months, John will be a father of twin boys. Two boys who will one day look up out their cribs and call him 'daddy'. The idea only makes John want to cry with the joy of it all.  
He watches Moriarty take Sherlock, draped on his arm, off the dance floor, both of them laughing together with such delight that it warms John from the inside out. He scampers after them.

"Phew" Sherlock says, as he gets sat down at the 'groom and groom' table. "I'm getting too pregnant for dancing!"  
Moriarty laughs, "shall I fetch you a cuppa?"  
"Please" Sherlock says, kicking off his shoes without shame, "my feet ache."  
"I'll bet hon" Moriarty sympathises, "you take a load off, you're making me tired just looking at you!"  
Sherlock sniggers as Moriarty goes off to fetch tea, as John sits down beside Sherlock.  
"Have I thanked you for carrying my babies yet today?" John coos, gazing loving at Sherlock's belly.  
"It's actually been three whole days since you said so" Sherlock teases, grinning.  
"Then I'm slacking! Thank you" he bends over and kisses the belly, "wish I could do it for you."  
"Yeah well I like doing it, back off!" beams Sherlock, and John laughs contently and kisses his handsome Omega.  
That night, John follows through on his promise, and finally Claims his Omega. Sherlock’s own sweet Omega scent is overridden by smelling like John. Which they both enjoy! 

The next morning, John is all aglow as he wakes up beside his pregnant husband.  
“Good morning Sherlock Watson-Holmes” he shines, “Love of my life, light of my days.”  
“It’s far too early, John Watson-Holmes” Sherlock mumbles, “especially when you’ve had two babies with a wiggle on inside you all night long.”  
“Aww” John kisses him a cheek. “You go right back to sleep then, I love all three of you!”  
“Yeah yeah, love you too” Sherlock mumbles, going right back to sleep while John continues to glow.  
So this is what married bliss feels like! 

“BORED!” Sherlock yells, a week later. He’s now six and a half months pregnant, and his belly has grown again. He’s had to give up his refined suits in favour for sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt.  
“I know” John says sympathetically, “but I got you a present” he says, opening the front door to reveal Moriarty.  
“Hey Sher-Sher!” Moriarty grins, “wanna make mischief?”  
Sherlock laughs out loud and perks up immediately, “hey Moriarty.”  
Sherlock is instantly cheered up as he and Moriarty get going on one of their gossip sessions.  
“I’ve heard there’s some big bomb threat” Moriarty tells, “too bad they can’t call you in, eh?”  
“Oh I wish!” Sherlock says in exasperation.  
“Well it probably wouldn’t stimulate you anyway. It was a few interesting points. It’s a rare culprit, a woman. Highly religious, depression sufferer, married for at least 40 years but recently divorced -”  
“Wow wow wow” John chips in, “How do you know all this?”  
"Well its perfectly obvious, isn’t it?” Moriarty frowns, sounding just like Sherlock.  
It’s in that moment that Sherlock and John look to one another, having the exact same idea.

John looks serious on the outside but inside he’s beaming as he dashes through tight quarters, avoiding gunfire just like the old days.  
At his side? Moriarty, the enemy turned ally.  
“Oh this is good fun eh Johnny Boy?” Moriarty beams as they duck behind cover.  
“You’re not as handsome as Sherlock, but you’ll do I suppose” John beams. He can’t help it, he’s missed these adventures!

When it’s all over, the two return to the flat to see Sherlock, lay propped up on the sofa, birth and delivery book in hand, his belly looking huge, but also looking ever so comfy, like a kitten.  
“Hello you two” Sherlock grins, “do tell me all about your adventure then” he says, putting his book down.  
“Now you see? Is maternity leave so bad?” John glows, going to put the kettle on.  
“Not when I have your stories to hear!” Sherlock agrees with a laugh.  
“Well Sher-Sher, it started out like this…” Moriarty begins, as Sherlock’s eyes shine as if he were the one there, living through the view of Moriarty, who’s mind is so like his own, its almost as if Sherlock himself was there, which makes Sherlock as happy as if he had been there.   
The old 'the game is on' spark is back in Sherlock's eyes without him ever leaving the coach, and John couldn't be happier to see it!


	13. Chapter 13: Labour day! Hamish & Harvey arrive

** Chapter 13: Labour day! Hamish & Harvey arrive **

Hamish and Harvey are due February 17th, and the morning of February 4th, a very, very heavily pregnant Sherlock is still very, very much himself.  
“BORED!” Sherlock yells, from the sofa. “This is getting ridiculous now. Can’t I just go pop and get back to work already?”  
John smiles fondly at his handsome husband, “you will soon enough. Hey, maybe we’ll have a Valentines Day delivery, eh?”  
“That would be a great gift eh?” Sherlock agrees brightly before he pauses, “ya know what we haven’t considered? Transport. Are we going to carry car seats and strap them into a taxi when their born?”  
John frowns thoughtfully, “good point actually. Maybe we should get a car?”  
Like a genie summoned, the door knocks and its Mycroft.  
“I brought you a car!” Mycroft announces. “It’s downstairs. I figured you can’t be strapping the twins into taxis.”  
“Hu” Sherlock says, amazed, “always a step ahead Mycroft! Thank you.”

Mycroft has not only brought them a brand new minivan with five seats that John straps twin car seats into, but he’s paid for Sherlock to deliver in a private birthing centre that specialises in male Omega’s. They do all mothers, naturally, but they’re such experts in male Omega’s that they come from all over the world to deliver there. The birthing centre is different from a cold, sterile, blindly white hospital. The centre is light, airy and painted in soothing natural colours of cream, blue, and green. There are plants everywhere and nature sounds playing from wall stereos, fish tanks full of exposit fish, soft sofas and guard rails to lean on trailing every wall, making the birthing mothers feel like their in a tranquil Zen garden. There’s plush furniture every two feet for resting on. The hallways are all double wide, plenty of room for four wheelchairs to pass through at once. This birthing centre is so fancy that it has an attached full hotel rooms for the family of the birthing mother to relax in a while they wait for the baby to be born. This is where Mycroft, Mr and Mrs Holmes, Lestrade, Molly, and even Mrs Hudson will be waiting, as Sherlock doesn’t want to be that crowded. All of this is naturally very, very expensive, but naturally it doesn’t even dent Mycroft’s deep pockets.  
Moriarty is going to be acting as a secondary birthing partner. Which John is fine with. Whatever makes Sherlock more comfortable! 

“Thank you Mycroft” Sherlock smiles at his brother, “I’ll text you the minute I feel myself beginning to pop.”  
“You better” Mycroft nods, smirking before he heads back to his limo.  
“Ah, having a billionaire brother does have its uses” Sherlock chirps, who hasn’t moved from laying on the sofa. John had to go outside, take pictures of their new minivan and bring them back up for Sherlock to see. Sherlock looks ever so comfy, propped slightly up on pillows, his bump and legs all swaddled up in a blanket.  
“It does, and you look beautiful” John coos, leaning down and kissing those chocolate curls.  
“Why thank you. Oh! By the way, I figure we should give the twins Sociopath middle names.”  
John laughs, “Sociopath middle names?”  
“Yeah, like Sherlock and Mycroft. In case Hamish and Harvey aren’t expressive enough of their inner genius’s.”  
“Mycroft isn’t Mycroft’s real first name either?”  
“Of course not John, don’t be stupid.”  
“Now Sherlock, we must not call names!” John teases, “so what were you thinking?”  
“Osric, it means divine ruler or Clad in armour” Sherlock continues.  
“Ooh, I like it. So who gets Osric? Hamish or Harvey?”  
Sherlock considers, “Hamish, I think. Hamish Osric Watson-Holmes. What do you think?”  
“It’s the perfect Sociopath middle name” John approves, “and for Harvey?”  
Sherlock “Hms” then says, “How about Caradoc? It means amiable and beloved. He was one of the Knights at the Round Table.”  
“I love it. Harvey Caradoc Watson-Holmes. We’re ready for two future high functioning Sociopaths.”  
“Excellent” Sherlock Grinch-grins and tents his fingers in his classic evil genius thinking pose. “Seems we’re ready!” 

********** Valentines Day - February 14th *********

John wakes Sherlock with a kiss and a Greek yoghurt, which he’s topped with a love heart drawn out of honey. Sherlock calls this cliché but John knows he’s secretly pleased!  
With three days to go before their due date, Sherlock has beaten the odds and made it to 40 weeks with twins. John knew he would! But this takes all chances of leaving the house off the table. The last thing John wants is Sherlock going into labour outdoors or in public. He wants his husband at home with his feet up when the Big Moment finally arrives.  
So, no going out for a Valentines Day date - so John brings the outside in!  
“Can I come out yet?” Sherlock calls from behind the closed bedroom door, sounding annoyed.  
“One more second!” John calls, before adding the last touch, “there! Come on out.”  
Sherlock comes out of the bedroom and melts, “aww, John!”  
In the living room, the breakfast table has been dragged to the centre of the room. It’s been covered in a white table cloth and set out as a romantic dinner with shiny white plates, wine glasses filled with false alcohol. There are rose petals sprinkled across the table cloth with a bunch of red roses on the side of the table. The plates are even topped with silver domes Sherlock knows they certainly didn’t keep in the flat before. John must have ordered them.  
“Aww, John!” Sherlock coos, “best date ever.”  
John plays the perfect gentleman, pulling out Sherlock’s chair and helping him sit down, which is necessary. Sherlock’s baby bump is so large, strained and full to bursting these days that he needs the assistance if he doesn’t want to end up toppling over. He sure feels dignified…not! 

The two enjoy spaghetti and meatballs, sip their fake wine and laugh together. John has even brought them chocolate cake topped with strawberries.  
“Hm” Sherlock licks his lips, “this is lovely John, thank you.”  
“Happy Valentines gorgeous” John coos, “our first Valentines as a couple. Do you like your present?”  
“I love it” Sherlock smiles lovingly.  
“I’d like to see your gift top this” John teases, proudly.  
Sherlock chuckles and takes a sip of fake wine. He’s mid gulp when pain strikes him in the back and spreads around the front of his bump, and Sherlock recognises from reading all his labour and delivery books religiously in a second that he’s having a contraction. Luckily, Sherlock is used to acting calm even in the most death defying situations, so he’s able to smile calmly and elegantly put down his glass before announcing casually, “well, I think my gift just about beats yours” he says, teasingly.  
“Oh?” John smirks, fully in their little game, totally unaware. Mwahah, Sherlock is a class A actor, that’s for sure!  
“Yep. I’m in labour” Sherlock says in the monotone voice he uses for saying, ‘I read the paper’.  
John leaps out of his chair so violently he almost bashes the table, wide eyed and instantly, immediately excited, “seriously?!”  
“Yup” Sherlock says, like its no big deal.  
John laughs almost manically with glee, rushes around the table and embraces Sherlock happily, “what did you feel?”  
“Contraction, just now.”  
“Oh Sherlock” John gives him a delighted squeal, “well then, let’s get you to the clinic” he offers his arms.

Sherlock allows himself to be hauled up gently, “do we have everything?”  
”Yep, got the twins car seats strapped in” John lists, “overnight bags and the twin pram is in the car. I’ll time the contractions, all you need to do is relax. I know you’re a strong independent Omega, but for labour day, I’m officially the Alpha, okay? I’m in charge, and I say; relax!”  
“Yes Captain” Sherlock grins, “could you get me my pregnancy pillow?”  
“Your wish is my command” John helps Sherlock lean on the arm chair as he runs to get the pregnancy pillow and hurries back to Sherlock’s size.  
“And you say you’re in charge” Sherlock grins. “I’ve got you whipped.”  
“Shush you” John says, as he helps his brilliant detective down the stairs and into their new car.

********* ******* ******************* ***********

As Sherlock leans over the bars on his delivery bed, groaning with another contraction four hours later, Moriarty rubs his back.  
“There there Sher-Sher, you’re doing great” Moriarty says, stroking Sherlock’s spine, “I’m so impressed! Honestly, I could never.”  
Sherlock smirks, “thanks Moriarty” he says, as he straightens up, contraction over, leaning contently on his friend, who rocks him supportively.  
Having Moriarty here is a blessing. Having him here to support Sherlock gives John a chance to rest himself, which helps keeps his stamina up, but its also great for Sherlock to have someone with him no matter what. John can pop to the bathroom or pour Sherlock a drink or just stretch his own legs without worrying that he’s leaving Sherlock without an encouraging pair of hands. No, Moriarty is there to pick up where John leaves off, and visa versa. While Sherlock is certainly doing the most hard work in this labour and delivery room, its good for the birthing partners to be rested too! Can’t have them burning out when Sherlock needs them the most.

Sherlock's family and friends are all waiting in the attached hotel. Mycroft pops by for updates to give to everyone else every two hours, but other then that, everyone else in their lives is staying out of the way, per Sherlock's request.  
John is glad of this. It just being the three of them. It's cosy!

“Anything I can do?” Moriarty asks now.  
“I’d love a walk” Sherlock responds.  
“Then walk we shall!” Moriarty offers his arm ans Sherlock smiles, taking it. Without shame, John takes Sherlock’s other arm, and all three of them go strolling through the centre. They pass many other labouring mothers with the same idea as they go, all of them bobbing through their contractions. They round a corner and come across a lesbian couple, who are wowed to see not one, but two male Omegas.  
“I’ve never seen a male Omega before!” says the labouring wife in amazement. “Let alone two!”  
“Yeah, we’re a marvel” Moriarty grins, “eh Sher-Sher?”  
“We sure are!” Sherlock shines. “And it’s nice to see another gay couple. This place was getting way too heteronormative!”  
Everyone agrees with that one!

“Ugh-oh!” Sherlock moans, lay curled around his pregnancy pillow, gripping the support bars on his birthing bed, white knuckled.  
John makes soothing sounds at him, mopping at his sweaty brow. It’s been an hour since their walk and Sherlock’s pain has grown. “I’m here love” John soothes, “how about some painkiller?”  
So far, Sherlock has managed without any painkiller at all, very bravely indeed, but the pain is only going to get worse, and John knows it.  
“I dunno” Sherlock mumbles, looking shy. John wonders why, but Moriarty catches the reason right away.  
“It’s not weak to do so you know” Moriarty, sat on Sherlock’s other side, assures. “Have some drugs, get yourself high girlfriend, I would.”  
Sherlock smirks, “okay, drug me up.”  
John nods his thanks to Moriarty, and two minutes later, Sherlock gets injected with an epidural. “Will I be as numb as fuck now?” Sherlock asks, brutally.  
John smiles fondly, “yep. Well some mothers still experience very mild pain, but either way, you’ll feel almost nothing.”  
“Sounds high, I love it” Sherlock taunts, and John bats at him playfully. 

Sherlock does keep experiencing very mild pain, which he describes as like a stomach ache, but the pain is so low Sherlock doesn’t make a peep of compliant. He’s gone from white knuckling the support bars of the bed to sat up in bed drinking tea and talking books with Moriarty.  
Ah, sweet, sweet modern medicine to the the rescue!  
For the next two hours, all is fairly calm. Moriarty and John take turns soothing Sherlock. Sherlock is still alert and chatty, but then, at hour seven, the Next Step arrives!  
“Oh!” Sherlock jolts in surprise. He happens to be having a rock on his feet when water gushes out from between his legs.  
“Huston we have waters broken!” Moriarty cheers.  
“Welcome to active labour” John glows, “our babies will be here before we know it!”

After that, Sherlock can’t bare to stand and retreats to the bed. Moriarty and John are at his side, holding a hand each as Sherlock twists and groans. The first time he’s audibly complained since his epidural.  
“Is it that bad love?” John asks, stroking Sherlock’s curls, “would you like some gas and air?”  
“It’s okay to say yes” Moriarty chips in, mopping Sherlock’s brow.  
“I think I’m okay” Sherlock huffs, “I’m mostly moaning because its making me feel better.”  
Moriarty grins, “so being dramatic?”  
“A little?” Sherlock grins sheepishly.  
To which, the three of them laugh.

Another hour later, the doctors and nurses have joined them in the room as the contractions are now arriving every two minutes.  
Sherlock suddenly groans and twists painfully, “I feel pushy” he gasps out. The doctors and nurses do too and jump into action, holstering Sherlock’s legs into stirrups and brushing his birthing dress up out of the way, putting a towel across his lap to block the view of the emerging baby.  
Moriarty and John are kneeling beside Sherlock’s head, squeezing his hands excitedly as the doctors check Sherlock from below. “Yep, you’re fully dilated! We’re ready for baby. Push on your next contraction for me, okay Sherlock?”  
Sherlock’s eyes shine with glee, “already? Oh jeez!” he beams, before he twitches with another contraction.  
“Push Sherlock!” John encourages, feeling the tears in his own eyes beginning to well.  
Sherlock bows his head down onto his chest and closes his eyes giving a silent push for a long moment until -  
“Heads out!” calls the doctor, as Sherlock releases his breath, ending his push with a proud grin as John leans in and kisses him passionately upon the forehead, “wonderful! Amazing! Brilliant!”  
“What he said!” Moriarty agrees brightly.  
“Great work indeed Sherlock” smiles the doctor. “Whenever your ready, push again.”  
Sherlock allows himself a dramatic groan as the next contraction hits, then pushes with it, both Moriarty and John pouring encouragement on him as he does so.  
Then there’s a slick sound like the pop of water and the splash of fluids combined and then wails fill the air.

John looks slowly up from his husband - to see his baby.  
It’s like slow motion as John watches his baby being hoisted up and away from Sherlock’s body, red raw and screaming, bloody and blotchy, covered in slime like fluids and chubby cheeked. John’s doctor brain instantly weighs him as a healthy eight pounds. He has sandy hair, a perfect mix of John’s blonde and Sherlock’s brown, and he’s screaming at the top of his lungs and yet.  
He’s the most beautiful baby John has ever seen, period.  
John realised he’s released Sherlock’s hand and has walked over, admiring as his baby’s face is wiped free of the mucus and birth fluids. John is gazing as his baby’s face is and airways are cleared, allowing him to cry even louder.  
“Hello Hamish” John has let a tear drip down his cheeks. “You’re so beautiful!”  
Then there’s a moan and John remembers he’s still needed by his husband, and leaves Hamish to dash back to Sherlock’s side.  
“Nice trip?” Sherlock asks, dosed up on the epidural, he’s still clear headed enough to taunt the army doctor as John retakes his hand.  
“Quiet you!” John glows.  
Their banter is cut short when Sherlock shudders with pain again, “and we’re crowing!” calls the doctor, as Hamish is cut free of his umbilical cord and placed in a glass crib for now.  
“Right here Sher-Sher” Moriarty, who didn’t move an inch from Sherlock’s side, soothes.  
Sherlock takes a few deep breathes before he’s told to push again. Sherlock pushes with a huff as his two birthing partners encourage him. He pushes then rests, pushes then rests, but Harvey is obviously a little more stubborn then his brother, who was born in two pushes, after four pushes, Harvey still hasn’t budged, and Sherlock’s looking distressed.

“Right here love” Moriarty soothes, mopping Sherlock’s brow, “take a break and try again.”  
Sherlock nods as John kisses his forehead. Meanwhile, the doctors are busy down below, applying oils within Sherlock.  
“We’ve got a slight bleed, internal tear” they inform, calmly. “We’ll get you stitched up once baby is out, but we’ll have to watch you for infection.”  
“So long as my babies are okay” Sherlock says, selflessly. John admires him, lovingly.  
“Okay honey, got your breath back? Give us a little push then” Moriarty says soothingly.  
Sherlock nods, tucks his head down once more, and pushes once.

With a quick slick sound, Harvey is born. Apparently a bit of oil and a breathing break was all he needed!  
Sherlock gives a squeaking sound of pure delight as Harvey - who has a copy of Sherlock’s mop of chocolate brown curls - is carted into the doctors arms.  
He’s equally the most beautiful baby John has ever seen.  
As Sherlock flops against his pillow and gets mopped down by Moriarty, John admires as Harvey gets the same wipe down and airway clearing his brother got.  
Sherlock’s done it.  
Their twins are here.

********** ******** ******** ********* ***********

Sherlock does develop an infection, so he’s hooked up to an antibiotic drip and washed thoroughly by a nurse and sleeps off the delivery almost all day the next day, which leaves his family alone with Hamish and Harvey.  
The Holmes family, Mrs H, Molly and Lestrade all coo over the twins, who by now have been washed, dressed and powered so they look like cute advert worthy babies rather then the blood and slime covered newborns they did only yesterday.  
So naturally, everyone’s cooing over their cuteness!  
“Harvey looks just like my Sherlock!” Mummy Holmes cradles Harvey proudly, “Look at those curls!”  
“And Hamish looks like the perfect combination of you and Sherlock, John!” Molly admires.  
“Their both perfect” John is trying to be happy, but he can’t be fully happy until Sherlock is well again.

It takes Sherlock four days to be well again. All of which, John spends worrying. Seeing Sherlock all pale eyed, his curls floppy and his complexion pale. He likes to see his Sherlock bright eyed, sharp faced and bouncing off the sofa demanding a case. Seeing him lay sickly upon the bed, hooked up to an IV.  
John hates it. He hates his beautiful Sherlock looking so weak, so exhausted, so raided from the inside out.  
However, John gets his relief by day five, when Sherlock is back to sitting up and is able to talk a little, some of his energy back. His belly has already deflated a little, but it’ll take about six weeks before his bump is fully gone. And by day six, Sherlock is well enough to leave, and John gets to take his new family home, hip-hip-hoorary!

Once they get home, it takes Sherlock another week before he’s up and about properly. During that week, Moriarty lives with them and helps John care of the twins.  
Once again, Moriarty is a Gods-send. John’s got two screaming newborns with no sleep schedule yet and a husband who isn’t well enough to get himself out of bed to take care of. He’d be run ragged if he was alone, but thankfully, he’s not.  
“Joooohn!” Sherlock calls, as the twins cry.  
“I got them, you get him” Moriarty says, taking a baby on each hip and bouncing them.  
“Thank you Moriarty” John pants, feeling like he’s constantly running a marathon as he rushes to Sherlock’s aid.

Finally though, two weeks after the twins came, Sherlock is back to himself, and becomes a gushing, present, loving Dada.  
“Come here cuties!” Sherlock beams, picking up Hamish, “who’s gorgeous? It’s you!”  
John grins. Finally, the two of them are a team again. And John couldn’t be happier.

** **************** 8 year later ******************* **

“Hey kiddo!” John beams, as Hamish rushes into his arms.  
“Hi Dad!” little 8 year old Hamish looks just like John. Seriously. He’s a little mini him with a slightly darker shade of hair, and he looks so cute in his primary school uniform!  
“Did you have a good day at school?” John asks, as he helps Hamish into the minivan’s back seat as Hamish seatbelts himself in.  
“I did, today we were working on powerful words, like ‘dazzling’! Did you know the word ‘dazzling’ Dad?”  
“I sure did cutie” chuckles John as he gets back behind the wheel. “I always thought your Daddy was dazzling.”  
Hamish giggles. “Now” smiles John, “let’s go get your brother.”

They pull away from the primary school full of cute little 5-11 years old, and drive up the road to the high school, full of moody and ever-changing 12-16 year olds.  
Coming through the ground of much taller, much more developed 12-16 years olds leaving the high school - comes tiny 8 year old Harvey, who the other students stare at. He clearly doesn’t care.  
Harvey hops into the front seat of the car, looking so smart in his high school uniform, “hi Dad.”  
“Hey Harvey, good day?” John asks.  
Harvey is a mini Sherlock. His curls, his rainbow eyes, and his slim frame. As well as Sherlock’s gifts.  
They knew Harvey was Gifted almost immediately. He was talking fully by age one, and reading full novels by the age of two. Which Sherlock, Moriarty and Mycroft all reminisces that they did, as well. He’s been bumped up to high school at age 8, that’s how fast he’s getting through school. It’s too easy for him. ‘Just like it was for me’ Sherlock said.  
“Adequate” Harvey says in a posh, refined voice, totally unsuited for a 8 year old, and yet its the one he has. “I was moved onto Year 10 mathematics today. They said I’m still too young to sit in the actual classes with the 15 year olds, but they gave me the workbooks. Their far too easy too though, just linear inequalities, standard form and evaluation an exponential function. Boring! It’s too simple.”  
John blinks, not having understood a word of that, “right. Um. Yes. Well. Tell your Daddy, he’ll be very proud Harvey!”  
Harvey chuckles, then pauses, “I don’t like that.”  
“What?”  
“Harvey. It doesn’t suit me. Can I go by my middle name?”  
John grins all over. Sherlock predicted this. “Sure thing” John chirps, “Caradoc.”  
“Ah, much better” Caradoc says, sinking into his seat contently, like a weight has been taken off his shoulders.  
“Hi Caradoc!” says Hamish, supportively.  
“Hello you” Caradoc smiles over his shoulder at him.

When they arrive back at Baker Street, the twins rush inside, John hurrying in after them as all three of them arrive in the flat to find Sherlock preparing dinner like a suburban housewife. “Hello family!” Sherlock grins. Sherlock is fully back to his old self, skinny as a board, bright eyed and curly haired. He may be 8 years older, but he’s barely aged at all. He’s as gorgeous as ever.  
“Hi Daddy!” the twins chorus.  
“Hi gorgeous” John greets, kissing Sherlock’s curls, “Harvey would like to be called Caradoc from now on.”  
“Ha! Called it!” glows Sherlock.  
“Yeah yeah, show off” John nudges him with his elbow.  
“Daddy, they moved me up to Year 10 mathematics. Linear inequalities, standard form and evaluation an exponential function” Caradoc leans on the kitchen counter as he tells his Daddy this.  
“I remember them well” Sherlock nods.  
“Their too easy” Caradoc remarks.  
“They were for me too!” Sherlock grins in agreement, and the two laugh together.  
“And I learnt the word ‘dazzling!’” Hamish bounces into the kitchen too.  
“Amazing!” Sherlock says, with equal enthusiasm, “you’re so amazing, my little Hamish” he tells, bending down and cuddling him, “and you’re amazing Caradoc!” he says, pulling Caradoc into the hug too.  
“We’re all amazing” John laughs, joining the family hug. 

Later that night, as John and Sherlock snuggle into bed side by side, Sherlock remarks, “I hope Hamish never feels inferior to his brother.”  
“I know, I worry about that too” John nods, “but I think Hamish knows he’s amazing too, he’s just amazing in his own way.”  
“I think he does too, but we must remind him!” Sherlock says as he snuggles under the duvet. “We walk a tightrope here John. We must praise Caradoc for his gifts and at the same time make Hamish feel just as skilled too.”  
“I know, we’ve got a hard job, eh?” John smiles, curling himself around Sherlock, being the big spoon. “But so far, I saw we’re doing a good job. I’ve never seen Hamish give or say any signs of thinking he’s inferior. He’s always proud of his own achievement. He was just as pleased to tell you about the word ‘dazzled’ as Caradoc was to tell you about that complex math.”  
“True” Sherlock smiles, “oh! We’re on a case tomorrow, by the way.”  
“Excellent” John tingles with excitement.

So, as their twin eight year old sons are at school, Sherlock and John are racing across rooftops and avoiding flying bullets just like the old days - and their still back in time for the school pick up at 3pm!  
John Watson-Holmes has truly got everything he never knew he wanted. He has two beautiful, happy, healthy sons, a stunning, intelligent, incredible husband, and a full time job solving cases with the world’s only consulting detective - who happens to be said incredible husband!  
Not to mention an ex criminal mastermind, the great Jim Moriarty, is their regular babysitter. The British Government in the form of Mycroft Holmes is a very generous uncle. Scotland Yard to tell them amazing stories as represented by Greg Lestrade. And stories of how many people found their Daddy hot back in the day (and still today honestly) by a bright eyed coroner named Molly.  
It’s safe to say Hamish and Caradoc lead very full, interesting and very well protected lives.  
And that John Watson-Holmes is the happiest he could ever be.

Because he chose Sherlock Holmes.  
He only has one regret;  
He wishes he had done so earlier!

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over! Feedback is always welcome. I've enjoyed writing this story greatly, and I hope you all loved it as much as I did.


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